Gundam: Reconciliation
by kishiria
Summary: COMPLETE, revised & edited for content. What if Char hadn't killed Kishiria?
1. Default Chapter

Assorted notes.   
  
1.I don't own Gundam and am not making money off this.  
2.This is a censored version of a story finished in March of last year. Bumping it off ff.net was a blessing in disguise, since it forced me to go back to it and revise. There were a number of errors in there, so now I'm going back and repairing them.  
3.There are no italics or boldfaces because Mandrake Linux sucks and won't do them for some reason. We're not willing to use Windows, so I just suffer.  
  
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It was strange how quickly the world could change, Kishiria Zabi thought to herself. One day, Jion was holding strong, the only dark spot being the death of her brother Garma. The next, the fortress of Solomon had been taken by the Federation, Dozel was also dead, they had retreated to a place called A Bao A Qu---and her pants didn't fit around the waist anymore.  
  
She'd expected that last thing, just as she'd expected the nausea. She'd engineered the whole event, after all. It was still hard keeping it a secret, but she didn't think the generals, most importantly her brother Giren, would take lightly to a pregnant woman being among them. They'd blame any decisions of hers that they didn't like on her hormones and send her packing. She couldn't allow that to happen. Although it did give a whole new meaning to the term "war pigs".  
  
She finished dressing and went out to the dining room for a quick breakfast before getting back to work. She'd only slept a few hours the night before, being up late in video conferences. Kishiria's lady-in-waiting Maria had already set the table and put her pot of coffee there. Kishiria knew she wasn't supposed to be drinking coffee, but she had cut down to begin with and needed the boost desperately..   
  
Kishiria sat at the table and waited for Maria to bring her her breakfast. Instead of just the toast she usually ate, there was a bowl of oatmeal, a fruit salad, and a hard-boiled egg there.  
  
"That's not my usual," Kishiria observed.  
  
Maria, a tall woman of Mexican origin, shook her head and her long braid swayed along her back. She was elegant in the customary Jion court dress of a long-sleeved gown with a floor-length flared skirt. "No, ma'am. But Consuelo and I have been very worried about you. You need to eat better."  
  
Consuelo was Kishiria's housekeeper. She hadn't told either of them about her condition. "You're probably right. Being in the middle of a war puts personal maintenance as a low priority. I wouldn't want the soldiers to eat as badly as I do."  
  
"We're concerned for more reasons than that, ma'am." Maria dropped into the chair by Kishiria and put a hand on her shoulder. Suddenly the clipped accent and court manners vanished. "M'hija, you're pregnant and it's taking too much out of you."  
  
Kishiria dropped her spoon. "How did you know that?"  
  
"I live in these same quarters as you. When two women share a bathroom, there's no secrets between them. Consuelo cleans the bathroom and she figured it out herself. I don't know what you're going to do about this, but unless you eat right, you're not going to have enough strength to see us through this war."  
  
Kishiria laughed a little. "Why research New Types when we have Mexican household staff? You're right of course. You always are, damn you." She picked at her fruit salad. "I'll tell you the truth. This pregnancy was planned. I'll tell you why later, but you're totally correct, I need to eat better if I'm going to go through with it. Please don't tell anyone. This war only has about a week or two left in it, and I don't want to be at the centre of a rumour mill and criticism just yet."  
  
Maria stood up. "Of course, ma'am. I'll go make you some yerba buena tea. My curandera grandmother swears by it."  
  
"Curandera. That's a cure-woman, right?"  
  
Maria nodded.   
  
"It figures your grandmother would be a witch. Carry on."  
  
Maria smiled and went back to the kitchen.  
  
A few short days later, General Delaz's fleet had defected, half of Kishiria's own was destroyed, A Bao A Qu had fallen, and Kishiria's father Degin was dead at the hand of Giren, who Kishiria herself executed.   
  
There was only one thing left to do, and that was to retreat back to Side 3. Kishiria re-boarded her Gwazine and settled on the bridge. She felt numb. In a short 24 hours, she had been propelled to the highest rank in her country under the worst possible conditions. The nightmare was far from over, and although it was not in her nature to retreat, the only way they would pull through was with her re-organizing from the safety of their inner boundaries.  
  
As the engines began to hum, a familiar figure in a red normal suit floated up in front of the Gwazine's front window. Kishiria frowned. It was Colonel Char Aznable, the Red Comet, the officer closest to her in more ways than one. After failing to protect her brother Garma, Dozel had had Char dishonourably discharged from the military with every intention of finding a way to kill him later. Kishiria had rescued him by restoring him to her command, and bringing him along on a romantic forest holiday, the real purpose of which he was unaware.  
  
Something wasn't right, though. Char had been hurt; there was blood on his face and a bazooka over her shoulder. Any pleasant recollection of their nights together in the forest cottage faded as the bazooka began to come off his shoulder. Kishiria's eyes widened in terror as she drew in a breath to scream.  
  
//NOT MY BABY!//  
  
Char paused with the bazooka in his hand and looked shocked. Then he recovered and flew away.  
  
"What was that about?" the captain asked irreverently.  
  
"I've no idea," Kishiria sighed. "Get us out of here."  
  
"Aye aye, ma'am. Gladly."  
  
Once her ship was away from the fallen fortress, Kishiria told her captain she was heading for her office. She strode away decisively and half-collapsed as soon as the doors closed behind her. Lower gravity kept her from hitting the deck. It'd been nearly four days since she'd eaten a real meal, slept for more than an hour here and there, or bathed. Perhaps it was time for a break.  
  
So she went to her quarters instead. Maria was waiting to take Kishiria's helmet, snapping out the cloth lining and throwing it away before putting the helmet on its shelf near the door. Consuelo was standing outside the bathroom with an armful of towels and Kishiria's bathrobe.  
  
Once inside the bathroom, Kishiria pulled off her uniform and kicked it into a corner, grimacing as she got a whiff of herself. Four days of nervous sweat was disgusting beyond words. It only got worse as she unpinned her hair. Normally it would have cascaded down her back, but this time it flopped slowly downwards, stiffened by its long imprisonment inside her helmet.  
  
The shower was heaven. Kishiria didn't have the energy to luxuriate under the hot water, so she merely enjoyed scrubbing her scalp until it tingled and washing the filth off her skin. It took three tries to make her armpits smell clean, but at last the goal was accomplished and she emerged wrapped in her robe with her hair swathed in a towel.  
  
A fat sandwich and a glass of orange juice were waiting for her. She sat down at her dining room table and reached for it, then looked up at her household staff and her secretary Margaret.  
  
"I know you four didn't have to stay on board," she told them. "The Feddies would let three domestic servants off easily although I'm sure Margaret would have had a harder time. I want to thank you for staying with me. We have a hard road ahead of us, I'll warn you. We haven't lost the war, but we're hurt badly enough that we can't keep fighting either. I'm returning to Jion to try to salvage something from this mess Giren left us in. It won't be easy and the results might not be totally palatable, but I know that with you behind me, I can achieve much more than I could otherwise. Thank you."  
  
Margaret looked at her co-workers. "So what are we waiting for? Three cheers for Her Majesty the Queen! Hip hip, hooray!"  
  
Kishiria felt her face turn red and she waited until they were done to start eating. Roast chicken with lettuce and tomato on sourdough bread. Her favourite.  
  
"Margaret," she began to her secretary after having tucked away some food, "I need you to send a message to General Delaz. Tell him that I beg him in the name of the Jion people to remember the loyalty he showed to my father and put aside the differences he has with me. I ask him to bring his forces back to Side 3. The people are disheartened and afraid and it would be wrong to start a civil war now. Instead, we should be regrouping in order to protect them. Sign it 'your obedient servant, Kishiria Zabi'."  
  
Margaret read it back and Kishiria made a couple of changes before starting the next letter. "Send a letter of condolence to the Federation congress for the death of General Reville and all aboard his ship. Say that as a grieving daughter who lost her own father in the same villainous attack that I share their pain and hope they will take some comfort in the knowledge that the traitor and regicide Giren Zabi has been executed. Sign that one, 'Sincerely yours in sorrow'...um...pattern the signature after the way my father did his."  
  
Margaret frowned a bit. "Kishiria, DG Queen of Jion?"  
  
Kishiria wrinkled her nose. "Too much for this. Would 'Kishiria of Jion' do?"  
  
"That'd be appropriate, ma'am. Humble, but don't let them forget who you are."  
  
"Excellent. Send those out as quickly as you can. Now, I must get some sleep."  
  
Maria insisted on drying her hair first, so Kishiria allowed her to do that. Afterwards, she slipped into her nightgown and climbed into bed. She was asleep before her lady-in-waiting could turn off the light.  
  
In her dreams, Kishiria was in uniform, trying to run across a battlefield. Bullets were whizzing past her and bombs exploding around her. In her arms was a terrified Jion child, clinging to the front of her tunic. She held him close, whispering promises that she'd get him home safely. Her feet skipped lightly over the ravaged ground, leaping over impossibly huge trenches, until she stepped on a mine. She screamed as it threw her through the air, but she only landed on the floor of Degin's sun room. She saw then that the child in her arms wasn't a child at all but her brother Garma, who looked at her and said, "Oh good, Kish, you're awake."  
  
When she awakened, it was 14 hours later. Kishiria reached for a notebook and wrote her dream down because it had left her with a curious sense of hopeful resolve that didn't replace her fear but comforted her nonetheless.   
  
After that, the nausea hit, sending her running for the bathroom. When she emerged, Maria was there, telling her, "Ma'am, you have a visitor. Colonel Aznable wishes to know when he could speak to you." 


	2. Chapter 2

"Char's alive?"  
  
"I do hope so, ma'am, because I spent five minutes speaking to him."  
  
"He can wait for me to have my breakfast. I need something to settle my stomach."  
  
"A toasted roll and a cup of chamomile coming right up, ma'am."  
  
Kishiria dressed quickly, leaving her hair down for the moment. She ate unhurriedly, listening to the news on the radio as she did so. After brushing her teeth, she asked Maria to wait for her inside the door and stepped out to the anteroom to greet Char Aznable.  
  
He stood there in his usual red uniform. He wore no mask, and there was a nasty cut between his eyebrows, surrounded by a dark bruise.  
  
"How'd that happen?" Kishiria asked.  
  
"The Gundam pilot and I finally met face to face," he answered. "We're both going to carry scars, inside and outside." He touched the skin beside the wound.  
  
"I'm glad to see you survived, Char," Kishiria said. "I think we have things to discuss."  
  
"When were you going to tell me you were pregnant?" Char asked.  
  
"When were you going to tell me you wanted to kill me?" Kishiria snapped back. "I should shoot your right here, you know that?"  
  
"Well why not?" Char retorted. "After all, the repercussions from you doing it to Giren have been SO beneficial."  
  
Kishiria didn't have an answer to that. "Why, Char? Why? You know why I killed Giren; he murdered my father."  
  
Char sat down. "And your father murdered mine."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You know I'm Casval Deykun. You know I was raised on Earth by Jinba Ral. He reminded me and my sister Artesia constantly about how Degin Zabi engineered my father's death. He raised us to take revenge on the Zabi family, but my sister turned her back on this and went to space to study medicine instead."  
  
"Interesting. Char, your uncle was either lying or mad with paranoia. Jion Deykun died of complications due to strep throat. He was lucky; the bacteria didn't get into his skin and start necrotizing. Flesh-eating disease is an awful thing to survive, much less die from. No, he came down with rheumatic heart and he died of a heart attack. It happens. And before you even open your mouth to suggest that he was infected deliberately with the disease, you might want to check that month's newspapers. There was an outbreak on Side 3 and a lot of people got it, my brother Garma included. Now, even if you think that my father was so wicked as to start an epidemic, do you think he'd have been willing to sacrifice GARMA? The sun rose and set on that boy."  
  
Char was staring at her, looking pale. "If that's true, then my whole life has been a lie."  
  
"I can't help you there. Char, there is one thing I need to hear from you. Did you kill my brother Garma?"  
  
She had never asked him that question. Even after rescuing him from being captured and executed by Dozel and Giren, Kishiria had never asked. Perhaps she hadn't wanted to know. For a moment, Char thought about telling her the truth and letting her put her sidearm to his head and pull the trigger. Why not? If his whole life had been a lie, the truth would really set him free.  
  
No. The cycle of death ended here.  
  
"Prince Garma was in love with a girl named Iserina Estenbach. Her father wouldn't let her marry him because he was the enemy. He preferred to die than face a life without her, but he was determined to take White Base with him at all costs. He failed. He died bravely, though. Stupidly, but bravely."  
  
Kishiria crossed her arms and was silent for a moment before saying, "All right. I believe you. So really, the only one you were going to have a chance to kill was me."  
  
"And when the time came, I couldn't do it. Just call me Hamlet I suppose."  
  
"Well I'm not about to drown myself so you can call me Ophelia."  
  
"My turn to ask questions now. When were you going to tell me you were pregnant?"  
  
"About now. I didn't expect you to figure it out on your own. How did you do that, by the way?"  
  
"When I flew up to the window of your ship. When you saw me there with the bazooka, your first thought was, 'Not my baby'."  
  
"I thought you weren't telepathic."  
  
"I WASN'T." Char's face registered terror suddenly. "Something happened during that battle. Not just to me, to all of us New Types. I don't know what it was; Lalla and the Gundam pilot had something to do with it. I am telepathic, now. It's going to take some getting used to." He sighed quietly and looked up at Kishiria, who actually seemed concerned. "At the same time, you also projected a picture of our little holiday together. I know I'm the father, which means Jion Deykun has a grandchild."  
  
" I got pregnant just so my baby would be the grandchild of Jion Deykun. You see, Char, one of the awkward things about being a royal is that you're expected to make a good dynastic marriage. Giren's widow, who is probably the happiest woman on Jion right now, is a northern European princess. Dozel's Zena is a member of the Khan family, who were heavily involved in the independence movement. Dad was negotiating with the old Russian imperial family for a princess for Garma, and I don't know what he had in mind for me. So I decided to beat him to it and join the Zabi and Deykun lines."  
  
"Clever girl."  
  
"Aren't I just. Now, we seem to be in a bit of a pickle. We've lost almost all our forces to either the Feddie's solar ray or desertion thanks to General Delaz. We also don't have many mobile suits or pilots left thanks to the Gundam. You're the expert there; you've faced that pilot enough times. The Pyscomm is gone, along with its pilot. You know all about that."  
  
"Yes, I do." Char's voice was a whisper.  
  
"Oh dear. You loved that girl, didn't you?"  
  
Char shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I didn't realize it until she was gone."  
  
"I'm sorry. I mean that. Anyway, we're not going to be able to fight our way out of this situation. We're going to think of some other solution. Part of that may be your coming out of the closet about being Casval Deykun."  
  
Char studied the tips of his boots. "I can say I'm Casval Deykun. I can prove I'm Casval Deykun. Just as long as you realize one thing: I'm Char Aznable."  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
"I stopped being Casval Deykun ten years ago. Instead, I became Edouard Mass. When I was 17 I came to Side 3 and became Char Aznable. I like being Char Aznable. If I must be one of those three people, I choose to be him."  
  
"I admit I can't think of anything more maddening than three changes of identity. All right, you're Char Aznable officially. I can grant that, it's in my power. That doesn't erase the fact that you're Jion Deykun's son, and that's what's important to me. I need you by my side. The Jion Republic partisans are going to be coming out of the woodwork now, and I need you to endorse continuation of the monarchy."  
  
"Why should I do that?"  
  
"Because I'll share it with you and pass it on to our child."  
  
He nodded. "Well, when you put it that way. Deal."  
  
"Excellent."  
  
They stood and shook hands. Kishiria cautiously raised her other hand to his shoulder, as if to caress an animal she wasn't sure would bite. A second later they were holding each other tightly and Char didn't know why.  
  
"Because I'm all you have left," Kishiria said.  
  
Char pulled his head off her shoulder. "What did you say?"  
  
"You wondered why you were hugging me. I said, it was because I---" Kishiria suddenly gaped at what she had just said. "Oh my God! You didn't say a word, and I answered you!" She backed off from him. "This New Type event--it got me too."  
  
She started to shake. Char gently sat her down in a chair and knelt in front of her.  
  
"Now you are one of us," he said, and lifted her hand to his lips to kiss it. 


	3. Chapter 3

Char sat in his cabin, working. He'd been given a small officer's room, with a bunk, desk, wardrobe and window looking out on space. It was all he needed; he'd taken off his tunic and hung it neatly in the wardrobe, along with the sweaty spacesuit he'd been wearing during his last fight with Amuro Rey.   
  
So Char was as physically comfortable as he could be, in a plain white t-shirt, a glass of scotch begged from Kishiria's lady-in-waiting on the table. He was writing condolence letters for the families of soldiers under his command. It was a boring, depressing task, but it had to be done, and by him. He had always made it a point to know his troops as well as possible, and while the letter itself was a form, he added what remarks he could.  
  
When he came to Dren, he had to stop for a while. He'd been his right-hand man all through the war, eventually earning a command of his own. He'd been a good comrade, and left behind a wife and three--no, four--kids. There'd be a pension waiting for all of them, but he'd always invited Char to family barbecues to be held after war's end, and Char had looked forward to them.  
  
Char stood and went to the window to look out at the stars. He sipped his whiskey and was glad Lalla had no family. He still didn't know what he'd felt for her. Love, certainly, but what kind? He'd never had a chance to figure out if his feelings for her were merely protective, or those of a friend, or those of a man for a woman. Yet sometimes, when he'd talked to her alone, looking into those enormous green eyes, he'd felt that he was the one being nurtured and protected in the relationship, and that she was the one who was somehow parental towards him.  
  
His head hurt and he curled up on the bed with a pillow in his arms. Thank god Kishiria had decided there was no fighting out of this. Dozel would have tried. Garma would have tried. Giren would have pulled another doomsday weapon out of his pocket, perhaps destroying the whole kingdom rather than risking the Federation having it. Kishiria was definitely the cleverest Zabi of the lot, and if they were going to negotiate for their survival, she was the best one for the job.  
  
He squeezed the pillow tighter. Flexibility was a good thing for an exiled prince bent on revenge, but he felt about to twist apart. He'd come so close to his objective of eradicating the Zabis, even if he hadn't any idea of what he'd do next. Retire quietly under a new name, probably. He had the money. Technically, that was still an option. Still, Char felt that that would be wrong. His duty was to his father's memory and to his people. Both would be served best by his staying by Kishiria, who had become part of both. How ironic could life get?  
  
He fell asleep and found himself lying on the soft grass of a hilly meadow. He was in uniform still, with his tunic unzipped and his head on Lalla's lap. She pressed a hand onto his chest when he tried to sit up.  
  
"Am I dead too?" he asked.  
  
"Silly, there is no real death," Lalla told him with a smile. "Especially for us New Types who've already formed a bond. We might lose our bodies, but we're still around for each other. I'm going to take care of you, even though you won't always see me. Today I'm here to introduce you to someone."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Him." Lalla leaned back so Char could sit up.   
  
Standing across the grass was a tall man with light brown hair and beard. He was regarding Char thoughtfully with deep-set blue eyes full of wisdom.  
  
Char blinked unbelievably. "Papa..."  
  
Father and son came together in an embrace. Char's whole body was racked with sobs and Jion Deykun's arms tightened around him.   
  
"I'm sorry, Papa, I'm sorry I've been such a bad son, I'm sorry I---"  
  
Jion Deykun took Char's face in his hands. "You've done the best with what you could, Casval, and I'm proud of you. Jinba Ral was wrong in what he did to you and your sister, and he'll have to pay for that. Don't think about murdering him," Jion warned, having picked up on Char's thought. "Revenge is what got us unto this whole mess. Building alliances is what will get us out. Now, I understand that you've given me a grandson."  
  
"I know I should have been more responsible."  
  
"No, not at all! I was hoping that at least one of you kids would end up with a Zabi." He took Char's hand and they started strolling. "The cultivation of the New Types is the only thing to concern yourself with now. I wrote that New Types would inherit space, and I stand by that. The only thing I fear is that this will become humanity's new race hatred, that on Earth New Types will be persecuted and in space they'll rule on the backs of Old Types. That can't be allowed to happen."  
  
"I won't let it, Papa. Should we live separately in peace?"  
  
"Look up the phrases 'separate but equal' and 'apartheid'. You'll find them enlightening. The two Types have to live together because...well, I'll let you and that wife of yours figure it out."  
  
"Wife?"  
  
Jion Deykun patted his shoulder. "Do the honourable thing, son, and not just because that grandson of mine will need a father. Without you, Kishiria's too close to being like an Indian mother-goddess."  
  
"What's wrong with that?"  
  
Lalla came up behind him. "Right now, she's like Durga, bringer of life. She wanted a baby, she got one. She's feeling conciliatory now, benevolent. She can afford to; she has no army and few other options. But she will. When that happens, she'll need your influence on her. Otherwise, she turns into the other side of the Mother."  
  
"What's that?" Char asked.  
  
"Kali," Lalla answered, and then Char's telephone rang.   
  
He sprang upright and grabbed it. There were tears running down his cheeks and he wiped them as he answered.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Colonel Aznable, this is Margaret Ring Blair, the queen''s secretary. Her Majesty would like you to join her for dinner, if you would."  
  
"Of course. What time?"  
  
"19h00."  
  
"I'll be there." He hung up and reached for the glass of scotch, which was still half-full. He sipped at it quietly, settling his jangled nerves. Things were moving awfully fast, and he wasn't quite sure how to assimilate it all. In 24 hours he'd found out his whole life was based on a lie, that he was going to be a father, and that if he didn't marry Kishiria Zabi she'd destroy the universe.   
  
He sighed. Well, if there was anything he was good at, it was following orders. If Lalla and his father wanted him to marry Kishiria and save all of humanity, who was he to argue. No pressure, right?  
  
Just before seven, he arrived at the door of Kishiria's quarters. Maria let him in, holding a finger to her lips to indicate quiet.  
  
"She's fallen asleep," Maria explained. "I didn't call you to cancel because she needs to discuss some things with you. She's also upset about something she saw on the news. Here, I'll show you."   
  
She brought Char over to the television and turned it on with the sound on low. He had to wait a few minutes for the footage on the all-news station to repeat, but there it was. The captured base of Solomon had been renamed and was being used by the Federation to house personnel who had lost their ships before shipping them back to Earth. The disturbing piece showed Federation soldiers in what had once been Dozel Zabi's enormous quarters there, There was one particularly obnoxious sort, identified as Kai Shiden, who was saying to the camera, "Hey! I'm jumping on Dozel Zabi's bed! I'm flushing Dozel Zabi's toilet! I'm petting Dozel Zabi's dog--OW!" The footage ended as the Irish wolfhound registered its own protest.  
  
"I can see why she's upset," Char agreed. "That's quite a violation there." He stood up. "I'll go check on her for you."  
  
Char carefully opened the door to the bedroom. Kishira was curled up facing away from him. She was snoring softly and the clothes lying carefully over a chair suggested that she was under the covers in undershirt and briefs. Char settled on the bed slowly and looked at her. He repeated her name in his mind for a minute or so until Kishiria "heard" him and opened her eyes.  
  
"Oh. What time is it?"  
  
"19h05."  
  
"Sorry about that. I'm just feeling rotten."  
  
"Maria showed me this news story--"  
  
"That pushed me over the edge," Kishiria snapped. "I had to hide for a while after that. What a thing to show, with Zena still alive."  
  
"Since when has the media ever cared about the families of the dead?"  
  
"True." Kishiria sat up in bed and hugged her knees. "I'm so tired, and things haven't even started to get hairy. My page Hamaan Khan called me from Jion. The Federal government responded to my condolences about General Reville. They sent a lovely flower arrangement with condolences of their own for the death of my father and a polite request for me to surrender."  
  
"How sweet."  
  
"General Delaz is willing to negotiate, though, and we're handling that by radio. So that's something. Also, I've signed the papers promoting you to Brigadier General. Congratulations."  
  
"Thank you. How are you doing otherwise?"  
  
She pressed her hand to her mouth. "Acid stomach, and I can't take medicine for it. I'd hate being pregnant if I weren't so excited about it."  
  
"Really? You're happy about this? I wasn't sure if you just did this purely out of Zabi cold-bloodedness."  
  
"I've always wanted kids. If I could combine dynastic politics with something I wanted, I figured it would be a win-win situation. Besides, amidst all this death, a lot of which I've caused directly, it's nice to know I can bring life as well as destroy it."  
  
Char remembered Lalla's words and suppressed a shiver.  
  
"I've also been pondering my new status as a New Type," Kishiria went on. "There's all this noise now, I don't know if you hear it. Voices in my head, like a conversation you hear through a wall."  
  
"I've never had that problem. You might be more sensitive than I am. Talk to Dr. Flanagan when we get back to Side 3."  
  
"We'll be there by tomorrow morning. I don't think I'll have a chance to see him right away. My agenda's already full. Well, this is what happens when you're a monarch who doesn't foist duties off on the local megalomaniac." Kishiria turned on the light and got out of bed, reaching for her pants. "Come on. Let's have a quiet dinner and pretend that we're normal people. It might be our last chance for a while."  
  
They had a peaceful and pleasant dinner, after which they decided to be indulgent and ignore the war for a few hours. Kishiria wanted to experiment with her newfound abilities, but Char talked her out of it, insisting that she should let her brain rest for the evening. It wasn't difficult for him to find an activity that successfully distracted her.  
  
The next morning, they made landfall. Kishiria rose from bed and left Char sleeping as she dressed and went up to the bridge. As the Zum City cylinder loomed larger and larger through the windows, she raised a hand to her forehead and winced. More minds meant more noise in her head. She didn't want to shut them out; they were her people after all. She relaxed for a moment, closed her eyes to welcome them, and was rewarded by an anxiety attack that knocked her back into her seat.  
  
"Ma'am?" one of the bridge officers was immediately at her side.  
  
"I'm fine," she assured him. "Headache."   
  
Minds, pressing in on her, asserting their presence, shouting their everyday thoughts, all completely unaware that she could hear them. Kishiria gritted her teeth. What could she do?  
  
Kishiria had heard something once about visualizing things in order to control New Type powers. She closed her eyes and pictured a radio receiver, then a remote in her hand. She visualized the remote in as much detail as she could, from the smooth feeling of the plastic in her hand to the roundness of the buttons under her thumb. She pressed "mute" on the remote and the noise vanished. She smiled. Her first sign of control as a New Type.  
  
Kishiria watched as they docked, feeling excited, hopeful, and nervous all at once. She didn't think for a second that she'd really been born for this but with a little luck, no one would ever know. 


	4. Chapter 4

Kishiria sat with Prime Minister Darcia in a corner of the huge office that had been her father's. The sun was on the other side of the building so the room was shady, the twenty-foot picture windows giving a view of the grounds outside.  
  
"So you're taking over the monarchy," Darcia said.  
  
"I hope it doesn't disappoint you."  
  
Darcia smiled. "The idea of being head-of-state of the reinstituted Republic has its appeal. Thinking about the reality of reconstruction puts the thought back in perspective. You do not have an easy time ahead of you."  
  
"I know. So tell me the truth, Prime Minister. What do our finances look like?  
  
The Prime Minister handed her a leather folder and opened one of his own. "We could be doing worse, I suppose. We aren't running a deficit yet. Prince Giren took us dangerously close, though, with his colony laser and such..."  
  
"Insanities?"  
  
"Quite, Your Majesty. As it stands, we still have our helium fields, which are of course our main resource. That's keeping us financially afloat, but to remain so, we can't spend anything. Not on the military, not on social services, not on foreign aid, nothing."  
  
"So the ships and mobile suits we've lost?"  
  
"Must remain lost," he said with a sigh.  
  
"I see." Kishiria reviewed some numbers. "I suppose this would be the wrong time to levy a new tax or cut services."  
  
"It would be an extremely poor political move to start your reign, ma'am."  
  
"Damn." Kishiria closed the folder and stood, gazing outside.  
  
After a few minutes, she turned back to her Prime Minister. "Jion has one of the lowest tax rates in the solar system, doesn't it?"  
  
"Not one of the lowest. THE lowest. That was one of Jion Deykun's objectives which your late father insisted on carrying out."  
  
"Are we involved in offshore banking for, say, billionaires seeking tax shelters?"  
  
"No, ma'am."  
  
"Well then it's high time we started."  
  
"I'll send for the Minister of Finance."  
  
"We should also protect those helium fields. There's a good, safe use for Delaz, to keep him out of trouble."  
  
"What about our remaining troops on Earth?"  
  
"There aren't many of those, and they are quite scattered. Let's spend some resources getting them back home, quickly. They aren't serving any useful purpose. The Federation has requested my surrender, you know that. They might tolerate my baby niece going onto the throne, but not me. I'm the wicked witch. They can't imprison me or execute me I don't think, but I would be forced into exile and I'm not about to do that."  
  
"It might be quite restful."  
  
"And watch the Federation do God-knows-what to their 'Republic'? I think not. We don't need Earth, we never did, and it'll be a goodwill gesture to abandon our holdings there. It'll demonstrate that all we want is our independence and that we'll keep our hands to ourselves from now on. Fine. What actions should I take in the short term?"  
  
Darcia consulted a computer tablet. "The funeral of your father and brothers, of course. The Deykunites remaining in the Assembly and the Senate are confused by the announcement that Casval is still alive. Have General Aznable confirm that with a DNA test and interviews with anyone who knew him as a child. I'll read the Declaration of Intent to Ascend for you in Parliament."  
  
"Excellent. Send the Minister of Finance and contact whoever it was who planned my father's coronation. I know there's all sorts of arcane ritual to be followed. We might as well get that started." Kishiria thought for a moment. "Onto family business. I know that Zena has returned to Jion, and I need to see her to give her my condolences. What about Princess Ingrid?"  
  
"Princess Ingrid has chosen to mourn the passing of her husband Giren from her family's home on Earth. She has left instructions through her lawyer saying that she expects her pension as a royal widow."  
  
"What a surprise." Kishiria looked thoughtful. "Was that marriage ever consummated? Because if it wasn't, I know another area where we can save some money. I never liked Ingrid."  
  
"From what I know of Giren, it probably was. They only separated after their first year of marriage, after all, moving in with their respective lovers."  
  
"Let's be glad of that, because otherwise we'd be adding Giren's legitimate offspring to the mix. Offspring who would be in their teens. All right, then, send her her pension. I'll talk to Princess Zena in person."  
  
After Darcia had left, Kishiria and Hamaan Khan hopped into a house limousine to take them across town to Dozel and Zena Zabi's residence. It was a large townhouse in an expensive part of Zum City, made safe by the constant police presence ensured by high incomes. Degin offered to purchase houses for all four of his children, but only Dozel and Giren had taken him up on it, as both Kishiria and Garma resided off-colony and were content to live at the palace when they were home.  
  
The butler escorted them into the parlour. Zena sat in a wingbacked chair, a lady-in-waiting beside her. Both she and her servant were clad in black. Mineba sat nearby, contentedly playing with her toys. Hamaan, 12 years old and still more than half a child herself, looked at Kishiria who nodded, then dropped down onto the floor to join Mineba.  
  
"I haven't seen you since we interred Garma's remains," Zena said softly. She gazed down into her lap. "There wasn't enough of my Dozel left to bury. Even that monster Giren came home in a coffin. What will happen to him?"  
  
"Public funeral, which I will, unfortunately, have to attend. I decided on the park at the corner of 15 August and Jion-Deykun as a gravesite. It's a nice, public final resting place."  
  
Zena raised an eyebrow. "Kishiria, that's a crossroads. Will you drive a stake through his heart before you bury him, too?"  
  
"I've already given one to the undertaker. Not a stake per se, but a nice, long antique hatpin."  
  
Zena smiled a little. "Good." A servant came in with tea and biscuits and Zena poured. "Thank you for coming when I called. I didn't expect to see you so soon after arriving back."  
  
"I figured I should take care of family first."  
  
"I wish you'd kept that in mind when sending reinforcements to us."  
  
"Zena, you are out of line."  
  
"Perhaps. It does force me to ask, though, what happens to me and Mineba now? I would guess she's the Crown Princess, is that so?"  
  
"What happens now is that you receive a royal widow's pension. That's until you die and until Mineba turns 21. You get to keep the pension even if you remarry."  
  
"I won't remarry."  
  
"I believe you. You and Dozel are one of the great love stories of Side 3. Mineba remains my heir until my own son or daughter takes his or her first breath. Then she gets in line behind them. She'll never be out of the succession, if that's what you're worried about. Her situation will change in about six months. I'm having a baby of my own."  
  
"Kishiria! How did that happen?"  
  
Kishiria smiled. "I went on this vacation with Char Aznable, you see."  
  
"Char Aznable? The man who killed Garma?"  
  
"He didn't kill Garma. Garma killed Garma. Anyway, it's not all as it appears. You'll see, very soon."  
  
Zena sipped from her teacup. "I can see why Dozel never trusted you, Kishiria. Giren was a komodo dragon, you are a fox. Still, while you might raid the occasional henhouse, better for you to be sovereign over us than him."  
  
"You'll be taken care of, Zena. I owe Dozel that much."  
  
*****  
  
Char Aznable opened the door of his apartment in Bachelor Officers' Quarter and stepped inside. It was strange to be here after a year of wartime. Time seemed to have stopped completely. Thanks to Housekeeping, everything was dust-free and ready to resume being part of his home. The place was a boxy one-bedroom with a galley kitchen and small balcony, but it was all he needed.  
  
Contrary to popular belief, Char did have a personal life and personal items. There were framed art prints on the walls, books in the shelves, and a ficus plant named Harold that had been a gift from someone he'd worked with in the Mobile Suit Development division. He was pleased to see that Harold was doing well, although it would need to be re-potted soon. He went down the hall to the bedroom and changed from his uniform into a t- shirt and shorts. There was a photo on the dresser he'd forgotten about. Char picked it up and sighed. Himself and Garma at their graduation, still in their cadet uniforms. They were grinning at the camera and Garma's hand was on his shoulder.  
  
I'm sorry, Garma, he thought. Here I was with a vow to exterminate your family, and I killed none of them except you, the one I actually cared about.  
  
He gazed down sadly at the photo for a moment longer.  
  
I'll be good to your sister and your nephew, he promised, and put the photo in a drawer.  
  
Soon after, he was sitting on his couch, bare toes curled around the edge of the coffee table, watching the local sports channel with a glass of gin in front of him. He was just starting to feel fuzzy when there was a knock on the door.  
  
"It's open."  
  
In walked Rav, Moishe, and Lawney, his drinking buddies from the building. "We heard the Red Comet was finally back," said Lawney, putting a bottle of rum on the table. He extended a hand so Char could shake it. "We came to say hi and to congratulate you."  
  
"Thanks. You know where the glasses are."  
  
"So how'd you do it?" Rav asked, sitting down.  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"You know," said Moishe.  
  
"I do a lot of things," Char answered.  
  
"We want to hear the details," Rav insisted, coming out of the kitchen.  
  
"Of what, specifically?" Char asked, with a sinking feeling that he knew.  
  
"Don't play stupid, man," Lawney said. "You nailed Kishiria Zabi. Everybody knows it. What we don't know is how."  
  
"How does everyone know that?" Char asked, alarmed. "Who's the leak?"  
  
"Let's see," said Lawney, who was in Security, "The guy who signed out the car to you on Side 7 was a start. The one who gave you the keys to the cabin. You both stepped out for a container of milk once. Don't worry, Char, none of this came from Kishiria's household staff. They'd never talk even if you tortured them."  
  
"Which is why they're her household staff," said Rav. "So what's she like?"  
  
"What do you mean, what's she like?"  
  
"C'mon, guys, I'm a gentleman. Besides, you need a frame of reference. You'd have to know what it's like to have sex with a woman first."  
  
"Kishiria Zabi comes across as this faceless, distant goddess," Rav said. "We'd sure like to hear she has tits like any other woman."  
  
"Take it for granted," Char sighed into his glass. "Listen guys, have I ever gone into intimate detail about any other woman I've slept with? What makes you think I'm going to start now, with Kishiria, a woman who could have me skinned and made into gloves if she wanted to?" He turned his attention back to the football scores again. "Anyway, I have to go out again, to do something. Before that, pour me a glass of that rum."  
  
Char had been away for three months, during which he'd collected his usual major's income, plus combat pay, and spent very little. He knew there was some kind of rule for what he had to purchase.  
  
The salespeople at Birks fell all over him as he reviewed trays of rings. They took it into their heads that he was shopping for Solana Vargas, a Jion film star he'd had a public affair with after the battle of Ruum, and he didn't dissuade them. They did their best to foist emeralds on him, those being Miss Vargas's favourite stones.  
  
"What's that one?" he asked.  
  
"Not to Miss Vargas's tastes," said the man attending him.  
  
"I didn't ask that. I asked what this stone is."  
  
"A smoky topaz. But I really think---"  
  
"I'll take it."  
  
Another evening, another dinner meeting with Kishiria. He met with her in the Zabi's private dining room, a modest chamber dominated by a solid oak table surrounded by dark, wainscotted walls. Kishiria was looking tired again, and had already changed from her violet uniform to a long green dress of the sort her sister-in-law and ladies-in-waiting wore.  
  
"What a day," she commented over soup. "I've gone over the budget, started I don't know how many motions in Parliament, and seen to Zena's welfare. What did you do?"  
  
"I sat on the couch with my drinking buddies watching Sportsline. Then I went shopping."  
  
"Bastard. The least I can do in retaliation is give you this." She motioned to another one of her secretaries, who came forward and handed Char some kind of legal document. He reviewed it.  
  
"My sovereign lady is a bitch," he stated as he folded it up again. He heard the guards at the door unholster their weapons.  
  
"Your sovereign lady is doing what must be done," Kishiria responded, unruffled.  
  
"This is an order to exhume my father from his grave!"  
  
"For the purpose of proving without a shadow of a doubt that you are indeed Casval Rem Deykun. No one is just going to take your word for it, much less mine. So at 9 a.m. tomorrow, up he comes. At the same time, the chief medical examiner will conduct a second autopsy to confirm that your father died naturally." She paused as a waiter removed their soup plates and replaced them with salad. "You have a 10 a.m. appointment with a geneticist to compare your DNA to that of Jion Deykun. Once that's confirmed, we can announce that you're still alive. So tell me, what did you go shopping for?"  
  
Char was pushing around the vegetables on his plate. "This." He removed a small velvet box from his pocket. "You've ruined any romance this moment could have had, though."  
  
He slid the box over to her. Kishiria picked it up and looked at the ring inside.  
  
"Char, are you proposing?"  
  
"It's the honourable thing to do."  
  
"Not to mention politically wise. If we married, our mutual claim to ruling Jion will be unshakable. I accept your proposal." She removed the ring and slid it onto the third finger of her left hand. "Interesting stone. What is it?"  
  
"Some kind of topaz. The grey colour reminded me of your eyes."  
  
"Char, that's so sweet." She gazed down at her plate. "I'm sorry about handing you the exhumation order like that. I should be kinder to you. I will try."  
  
"Please do so."  
  
"Char, let me tell you a little story. There was an old woman who came across some boys attacking a snake. She chased them away and took the snake home with her. She fed it and nursed it back to health, and the snake stayed with her. Then one day, it turned around and sank its fangs into her hand. As the old woman was dying, she asked it why it had done such a thing to her. 'Lady, you knew I was a snake when you picked me up,' it said."  
  
"I'll keep that in mind," Char told her. He finished dinner and went home without asking if she wanted him to spend the night. 


	5. Chapter 5

"Don't pet that thing, Hayato, it'll take your arm off."  
  
Hayato Kobayashi looked up at Kai Shiden. The Japanese pilot of the Guntank appeared as doleful as the Irish wolfhound he was petting. The dog and the young man were sitting on a couch in what had once been some Jion officer's quarters.  
  
"I don't think he's got that in him, Kai. He knows that Dozel Zabi's dead."  
  
"He bit me on television."  
  
"You were teasing him. Dogs bite when you do that. And when their territory's invaded."  
  
Kai ignored that. "So where's your girlfriend?"  
  
"I guess you mean Frau Bow. She's with Amuro. So's Sayla."  
  
"Sheesh, makes me almost wish I'd gotten wounded in that last battle."  
  
"I know what you mean," Hayato admitted. "I haven't seen Bright and Mirai lately, either."  
  
"One guess where they are," Kai sneered.  
  
"Haven't gotten out of bed yet?"  
  
"Got it in one. I heard they went to Bright's room after they were debriefed and nobody's seen them since."  
  
Hayato sighed. "I wonder when they'll let us off this rock. Kyonpei Island's pretty comfortable, but I really don't want to be here anymore."  
  
"The brass are waiting to interview Amuro. They want to interview us about Amuro after they do."  
  
"Amuro, Amuro, Amuro. It's all about Amuro, isn't it? Makes you wonder if we'll ever get recognized for what we did in the war."  
  
"I gave up on that a long time ago, Hayato. I tell you one thing, though. You're coming out of this better than I am."  
  
Hayato looked at Kai dubiously. "Oh yeah?"  
  
"Yeah. I didn't come out of this with a girlfriend. You did, even if she is hovering around Amuro right now. Maybe you and this walking carpet should go chase her down. No one is going to do it for you."  
  
Hayato nodded. "You're right. Besides, what's the worst that can happen? Maybe I'll find Frau and Sayla in the middle of a catfight over Amuro."  
  
"Now you're talking! Call me up if that's what's going on, 'cause I wanna watch."  
  
Hayato stood and the dog stood with him. "Frau will kick Sayla's ass."  
  
"Dream on!"  
  
When Hayato had left the room, Kai's lustful grin faded immediately. He dropped onto the couch and stared at his shoes for a while. Then he picked up the remote and turned on the TV, looking for something to distract himself.  
  
In the infirmary, Amuro Ray was lying in his bed, looking glazedly up at the television suspended from the ceiling. Frau sat on one side of him, holding his hand. Sayla Mass sat on the other, reading a book and periodically checking the bandages wrapping his upper arm. He'd lost a good amount of blood from the wound Char Aznable had inflicted on him, and he'd needed to have it stitched up. They were all in that "nothing to say" state when Oscar from White Base came running up to them.  
  
"Turn on JBC Snoozeworld."  
  
"Snoozeworld" was their slang term for "Newsworld", the Jion Broadcast Corporation's 24-hour news station. Sayla picked up the remote and turned it on.  
  
Kai had had the same idea. After a few minutes, he picked up the phone by his side. "C'mon, Bright," he said to himself, "Get off of Mirai and pick it---Bright! Hi!"  
  
"I wasn't on Mirai," Bright growled at him. He was in bed with Mirai, certainly, and she'd been feeding him potato chips as they watched TV, but Kai didn't need to know that.  
  
"Turn on Snoozeworld."  
  
JBC newsreader Peter Jansen was intoning the recent events on Jion in what Kai liked to refer to as "the voice of Doom". The middle-aged man was balding but still handsome, his presence full of paternal authority.  
  
"Jion will officially have a new ruler. Prime Minister Darcia read the Intention to Ascend the Throne on behalf of Kishiria Zabi this afternoon. General Zabi is of course the only surviving one of the late King Degin's children."  
  
There was a shot of the National Assembly, in its baronial hall with Gothic vaulting and dark wood. With Kishiria sitting on a throne behind him, Darcia was reading from a parchment, "It is thus the intention of Kishiria Elizabeth Zabi to succeed to the throne of her father Degin, lest the people of Jion find themselves without a monarch. The King is dead, long live the Queen!"  
  
"In related news, further developments were in store as Brigadier General Char Aznable, hero of the battle of Ruum and Jion's most recognizable soldier, revealed himself to be in fact none other than Casval Rem Deykun, son of Jion Deykun."  
  
There was footage of Char Aznable, in uniform but without his mask, speaking to a scrum of reporters, many of whom were holding out microphones to him.  
  
"Yes, I am Casval Deykun, this was confirmed today in the lab of the University of Jion. We used cells from the corpse of my father, who was exhumed today just for this purpose."  
  
Frau glanced over at Sayla, who had curled into a fetal position on her chair. Her eyes were closed and one hand was clamped over her mouth. "Sayla, you don't need to panic. They probably won't show the body..."  
  
"It's not that," Sayla breathed. "You don't understand."  
  
"General Aznable! Is it true a second autopsy was going to confirm or deny the rumours that the Zabi family murdered your father?"  
  
"The second autopsy was done, and it confirmed that there is no truth to those rumours. We've put that to rest."  
  
"Is there any connection between your revelation and Princess Kishiria's taking the throne?"  
  
"I have no comment on that at this time."  
  
They switched to another story. Frau stood and walked over to Sayla, who was bleached from shock.  
  
"Sayla? What's wrong? Why did that story affect you like this? Sayla?"  
  
Sayla looked up at her with tear-filled eyes. "There's something I'd better tell all of you."  
  
They assembled in Bright's room. Frau pushed Amuro in a wheelchair. To Hayato's evident happiness, she sat down on the floor beside him as Amuro remained in the chair. Sayla sat in the desk chair and Bright and Mirai seated themselves on the bed.  
  
Sayla recounted the story of her birth on Jion, her life on Earth, her returning to space. "And there you have it. I am really a Jion. Not just any Jion, but the sister of the Red Comet himself. That's why I never was open with all of you as I would have liked. I hope that you all won't throw me out of your lives now."  
  
"Sayla." Frau stood and hugged the other woman. "It's okay. You've proved yourself over and over. You're one of our family, and family don't just go throwing each other out."  
  
"Frau's right," Mirai added. "Artesia Deykun is part of Sayla Mass, and we love Sayla Mass."  
  
"Give me half a chance and I'll prove it!" exclaimed Kai. There was an awkward pause, then much-welcome laughter from around the room.  
  
"One thing's troubling, though," Bright said, rubbing one of Mirai's hands between his fingers. "It was clear from that news report that Char's little revelation has something to do with Kishiria Zabi becoming monarch. They gave it as 'related news'. What do you think they mean by that, do you suppose?"  
  
"That's easy," Kai said. "You've got a Zabi and a Deykun making all friendly. 'Oh no, Degin Zabi didn't kill my father.' You gotta think, exactly how nice have those two made with each other? I dunno if you've all noticed this, but Kishiria Zabi's gaining weight. I think she's got a bun in the oven."  
  
There was silence around the room for the moment.  
  
"Good thing we all escaped with just the clothes on our backs," said Kai. "We don't have to worry about packing again."  
  
"There will be war, won't there?" Hayato asked gloomily.  
  
"God no. No," Amuro moaned. "Not all this again."  
  
  
  
*****  
  
Char was not comfortable being inside St. Michael's Cathedral and didn't know why Kishiria would be in there herself. However, when he'd phoned the queen's office, Margaret had said that was where Kishiria was.  
  
It wasn't difficult finding her. All he had to do was look for the royal guards. They were in the crypt under the church, facing outward from an open iron gate. They saluted him through the gate and he found himself in a stone room around ten meters by five meters. The nature of the room was immediately obvious; it was the Zabi family tomb. He passed the grave of Saslo Zabi first, a rectangular base on which rested a life-size marble image of the second Zabi son. Kishiria was sitting beside the one grave he did not want to see.  
  
"I thought there weren't any remains," Char said, coming to stand beside her.  
  
"Since you had to face your father's grave today, or at least the thought of it, I felt I should inflict the same thing on myself. To answer your question, yes, there were remains. It just took a while to find them." She reached out to touch the stone hair of her younger brother. "We of course had to send an investigative team to try to recover the Gau's black box. They also looked for any bodies, or parts of bodies. About a week after Giren's charming memorial service, they found some. They only recovered Garma's skull, pelvis, and most of his right arm, but it was better than nothing. I was on Earth at the time and flew out to bring them back to Jion. Since they needed a DNA sample from me to confirm it was him, I asked to see the remains. It was just blackened bones and some tendons still on the arm. We buried them here privately. We couldn't inflict another big public ceremony on poor Dad." She fell silent and Char saw that she was suppressing tears. "The sculptor did a good job though, didn't he?"  
  
Char stood back to study the marble figure. While the image of Saslo lay flat on its back, limbs straight, eyes aimed at the ceiling, hands folded in prayer, Garma's was much more expressive. It lay loosely on its back as if fallen, eyes closed, head tipped to the right. One arm hung slightly off the platform, the hand turned palm up. One knee was bent upward. The expression on the face seemed tranquil at first until Char examined it more closely. That's when he noticed the subtle furrowing of the brow, the tension around the mouth forming a delicate grimace. This image of Garma showed the young prince as having died stoically in pain.  
  
Or betrayal, he thought to himself grimly.  
  
"It's beautiful," he told Kishiria finally.  
  
"Dad chose a really good artist."  
  
"Kish." Char reached for her hand. "We've got the evidence we need. No one can argue that I'm Casval Deykun. Let's only look to the future."  
  
"You're right." She stood and put her hand on his arm. Char led his fiancee from the crypt, noticing that her step was heavier than usual. The reality was beginning to sink in for her, he realized.  
  
Char knew that he as Casval Rem Deykun would only be beside throne, not on it. For the first time, though, he wondered if this might not be a good thing. 


	6. Chapter 6

Char awakened on the morning of February 10 with the obligatory post-stag hangover. Images of strippers and he didn't know how many beers still danced in his head. Fortunately, he wasn't due at the Supreme Court until the afternoon. He'd stored up bottles of sports drinks, knowing that he was going to feel rotten on the morning of his wedding.  
  
His personal belongings were already boxed up and would be transported to the palace around noon. He sat in his living room in his underwear, sucking back sports drinks from the bottle, his toes wrapped around the edge of the coffee table. The morning light, warm and blue as it was, didn't seem very friendly. He'd always believed he was ready to do anything to forward the goals of his father, but this seemed beyond the pale. He didn't love Kishiria, he loved Lalla Sun. True, marriage to Lalla was completely impossible due to her being, well, dead, but to marry so soon after her death seemed wrong.  
  
On the other hand, there had been that dream where she and his father had told him to do this. Char took a few painkillers and wondered if that had been only a dream, not a New Type experience.  
  
He sighed. Too late now. Char went out for breakfast and drowned his sorrows in eggs and bacon.  
  
At noon, Char dressed in his most formal uniform, a variant on his usual red-and-black with a longer cape and more gold embroidery. At 1:00, he gave a grim goodbye to his friends, who hadn't recovered from their drinking as well as he had. They livened up somewhat when he delivered his not- inconsiderable porn collection into their hands. He then got into a Zabi family limousine and rode to the Supreme Court.  
  
Ostensibly, the wedding was being held privately at the Supreme Court due to the death of the king a mere six weeks before. The fact was that Kishiria was an agnostic and felt a religious wedding would be hypocritical. Char was an atheist, so that suited him perfectly well.  
  
The Supreme Courtroom was of the same neo-Gothic style as Parliament. The mahogany bench for the nine Law Lords dominated the room. The Law Lords themselves, resplendant in their red velvet robes trimmed with white ermine, sat as witnesses. Justice Prem, who was a municipal judge from Zum City, descended from the bench to conduct the ceremony.  
  
Kishiria had also opted for her most formal uniform and was attended as always by the faithful Maria and Margaret. Not that they were needed for anything but moral support; Kishiria didn't have so much as a bouquet, much less a veil to keep track of. The ceremony was mercifully short. A few minutes of encouragement from Justice Prem, then the vows. Char's vows were to "love, honour, and obey". Kishiria's were not. They exchanged plain gold rings and kissed.  
  
My fate is sealed, Char thought to himself. No more film stars. No more groupies. And in about five months, no more sleeping all night, either.  
  
In the car afterwards, Kishiria broke the silence by saying, "Where do you want your belongings? Since my family is all dead, there are four empty apartments for you to choose from."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"Unless you'd like to move into mine. I've taken my father's old suite. It has four bedrooms, and I figured that with a baby on the way it'd be good to have a nursery, and a playroom, and a room for Maria of course. But if you wanted to take one of those rooms, that'd be all right."  
  
Char placed a hand on the violet silk of her skirt, feeling the warmth of her knee beneath. He did something he ordinarily would have considered the height of unethical behaviour and touched her emotions. Her earlier parable about the snake and the old woman had left him feeling more than a little paranoid.  
  
Kishiria was afraid. It wasn't the fear of a queen who wanted to keep an eye on her volatile consort, or of who wanted him for extra security, but the simple fear of a young woman who was pregnant and almost alone.  
  
Some snake, he thought, and then reminded himself that Kishiria wouldn't be pregnant forever.  
  
"I think I should be in your quarters," he said. "If I have my own apartment, the public will find out and wonder why."  
  
"Your plant wants a bigger pot," she commented out of nowhere. "If you don't know how to do it, I do. You can put it in the solarium next to my palm tree."  
  
"Go ahead. Thanks."  
  
An hour later, he sat in the solarium watching Kishiria transfer Harold from one pot into another. She wore jeans and a man's shirt and shunned gardening gloves. She obviously didn't mind getting her hands dirty, literally.  
  
"That was easy," she said, brushing black soil from her hands. "Nice, grounding thing to do. I should garden more." She caught sight of her reflection in one of the big windows and turned sideways, stroking the shirt against her belly. "Prime Minister Darcia and my cabinet have advised me to get my fanny onto the throne as quickly as I can, to stablize the politics here. The Master of Etiquette says he can prepare everything in two months. He'd better; I want to get through this coronation in one piece." She prodded gingerly at her much-expanded breasts. "Think I should explore a second career as a pin-up model?"  
  
"Let's see if there's a market. I read the press release about our wedding and saw that the PR office is finally confirming that there's an heir on the way."  
  
"It was going to become obvious soon. The political cartoons tomorrow should be hilarious." She walked over to him and sat down by his side. "The Federation is not going to be happy about this at all. We should wake up tomorrow to hints of their next move."  
  
"Good. The sooner we can anticipate their moves, the better."  
  
"We'll be bringing up the remaining troops and armaments from Earth. You must feel out-of-place without a mobile suit around you. I'll order one and have it painted red."  
  
"Add the crest of Jion," he said. "I'm Prince Consort, after all."  
  
Kishiria smiled at him. "Done."  
  
*****  
  
Sayla Mass sat in her room with a cup of coffee on her lap. Amuro was doing all right and there wasn't anything to go out for. She had a bar fridge and a coffee maker in her room, and it was rather nice to have breakfast by herself with her own thoughts for once.  
  
So of course there was a knock on the door. She pulled a robe over her nightgown and opened the door to Kai.  
  
"Morning, Sayla."  
  
"Morning, Kai. Come in. Coffee?"  
  
"Sure, thanks. One cream, one sugar." When Sayla had given him the cup, he began, "I gotta tell you, this isn't a social call. There's news from Jion. I thought you should hear this from a friend, not off tv or something."  
  
He handed her a printout from JBC's web site. Sayla took it and read the headline. She looked at the picture. "Kai...my brother...he married her."  
  
Kai nodded. "It gets worse. Remember a couple of nights ago, I said I thought Kishiria looked pregnant? Check it out. It's official from Zabi House. She's four months along. You're going to be an aunt."  
  
Sayla sank down into the one chair. "What's the reaction from the Federation?"  
  
"None yet, but Bright got called in to a breakfast meeting with the brass this morning."  
  
"We should keep ourselves ready. Thanks for bringing this to me, Kai."  
  
"Like I said, I figured it should come from a friend."  
  
"It did." She stood up and gave him a hug. "I wonder if this means Casval's going to come looking for me. At the very least, he could do something embarrassing like mentioning my existence to the press."  
  
"Let's cross that bridge when we come to it. Listen, Hayato and I are going bowling after lunch. I know it might not appeal to a classy gal like you, but you're welcome to join us."  
  
"I've never bowled. It could be fun. I need fun."  
  
"We'll meet you for lunch." Kai left her, and walked down the hall muttering, "Need fun? Yes you do, girly-girl, yes you certainly do."  
  
*****  
  
"You want us to go where?"  
  
Bright Noah gaped incomprehendingly at the Federation officers present for this meeting. The Federation officers and the Federation Secretary of State, no less.  
  
"The Government of Jion has of course invited a delegation from Earth to the coronation of General Zabi," the Secretary was saying. "It's the decision of our government that the prominent members of White Base should be part of that delegation."  
  
"We're the people who brought down A Bao A Qu. Don't you think it's a bit of an insult to send us?"  
  
"Oh, of course," said one General Malarny. "We want to see how the new monarch will react. The Jions have been remarkably silent, with the exception of pulling their remaining forces off Earth. That could be an act of peace, but in doing so, they're recovering their last remaining mobile suits as well. We're trying to sound them out." After a few moments of silence from Bright, he went on, "As a British citizen, Captain Noah, I'd expect you to have a fondness for royal scenes."  
  
"We're not all monarchists," Bright responded, concealing indignation. "And even if I am, the fondness is for our own royals, not those of some upstart dynasty. Not that it matters. We have our orders, and I will pass them along to my crew. I'm sure it will be no different from our other encounters with the Jions." Bright paused for a moment. "Except with champagne, this time."  
  
*****  
  
For all that Degin Zabi's old bedroom was large and airy, Kishiria felt oppressed in it. She climbed into bed that night with a sense of general unease. It was the whole New Type thing again, she supposed as she lay back with a book. Her father must not have slept easily in this room, burdened down by the weight of the nation, then depression after the death of his youngest son, then the knowledge that Giren was utterly out of control. It was reasonable that Degin's trouble would have suffused into the walls.  
  
She read for a while, then turned out the light and snuggled under the covers. As she did every night, Kishiria pressed a hand against her abdomen, sensing the growing presence of her child in there and radiating love to it in return. They lulled each other to sleep.  
  
Kishiria awakened with a scream half in her throat. She snapped half- upright, yelped when her hair was caught under her elbow. She didn't know what she had been dreaming, but whatever it was, the terror was still with her. She swung her feet to the floor and ran down the hall, tossing her dressing gown around her shoulders.  
  
She'd hoped Char would be awake, but he wasn't. Kishiria closed the door quietly behind her and sought out the relative safety of her consort's bed. It was warm under the covers with him, and he didn't panic on finding her there.  
  
"Hm?" he asked.  
  
"Nightmare," she answered. "I felt scared." She cuddled against him, feeling the lines of his muscular body against her back.  
  
"You can always sleep here with me," Char said with gentle sarcasm, seeing as she'd already decided to do just that. He brushed strands of her hair away from his nose and draped an arm over her. She was still shivering a little. He got comfortable and closed his eyes.  
  
An explosion sent them both flying to the right of the bed. Char landed on the floor while Kishiria was merely bounced to the edge. He grabbed her arm and pulled her down on top of him.  
  
"Wait. There might be another one," he whispered to her. There wasn't, and they began to hear footsteps in the corridor. The door of the bedroom was flung open and Maria appeared, in her nightgown and ready to give in to hysteria if needed. "Kishiria! Are you in here?"  
  
"I'm right here," Kishiria said, raising a hand. "I'm fine."  
  
Maria swept over to her. If she noticed Char's nudity, she didn't show it. "I heard that noise, and I looked into your room, and the wall, the bed, everything, was gone and burning, and I thought, Señor, let her be in here."  
  
Char was on his feet, fastening his trousers and pulling on a t-shirt. He slid his feet into boots and his arms into the sleeves of his red tunic. "I'll go see what's going on. Here." He handed Kishiria his sidearm and ran from the room.  
  
In that short amount of time, every police car in Zum City had descended on the scene. "How did it happen?" Char demanded of the captain of the royal guard.  
  
"Incendiary device from outside. Probably launched from somewhere. My guess is that the attacker figured you and Her Majesty would be in that bedroom, it being your wedding night at all."  
  
"We made other plans."  
  
"We got something!" A municipal constable and one of the royal guard came over with a tattered piece of fabric. Char leaned over it as one of the guards shone a light down on it.  
  
"It's the old Republican flag," the captain of the guard said. "There's something on the back."  
  
The captain of the guard turned the cloth over with tweezers, assisted by the two constables. Written there in white ink was a simple question:  
  
"WHERE IS ARTESIA?"  
  
"Who's Artesia?" asked a constable who looked about Char's age.  
  
"My sister," Char answered, sadly. 


	7. Chapter 7

"No. Absolutely not. I am not going to Jion."  
  
Amuro Rey was sitting up in bed, shaking his head at Bright Noah. Amuro was recovering well; he'd been moved to his own room here on Kyonpei Island and was wearing pajamas insead of a hospital gown. His arm was in a sling, but that was the only sign of his injury now.  
  
Bright sighed and sat down on the room's only chair. "I can't say I blame you."  
  
"You'd better not! I can see you going to Jion for this coronation, Bright, you're captain of what was one of Earth's most important ships. But me? You think they want to see the Gundam pilot there?"  
  
"The Jions? They might. I understand the Lady Kishiria has a rather bizaare sense of humour."  
  
"Another thing. She's married to Char Aznable, the man who killed Lalla Sun. I can't face him, Bright." Amuro snorted. "I thought on Side 6 that he was in love with Lalla. Looks like I was dead wrong there."  
  
"So what will you do?"  
  
"You guys kept me imprisoned because I was the only one who could pilot the Gundam. There's no more Gundam, so you don't need me anymore. I had Frau make some phone calls for me and it turns out that I've got half a year's pay plus combat bonus sitting in my bank account on Side 7. I'm going back there. I'll buy a house and find a job. With my experience, it shouldn't be difficult. Maybe I'll write a book. But I'm not going back into the service, and I'm not going to Jion!"  
  
Bright nodded. "There isn't much the brass can do to keep you in the military. Very well, Amuro. I wanted to talk to you about it because we were asked to be in the delegation to the coronation, but also because--"  
  
"Because you think you'll be needing a punching bag while you're there?"  
  
Bright blinked for a second, then chuckled and ran his hand through his hair. "Amuro, I can't apologize enough for that. But you were very difficult, and I am only 20. No, I was about to say that I've become quite fond of you, as I have of everyone in the crew. Strangely, I find the idea of us all having our last sortie together in posh surroundings to be somehow fitting."  
  
"It is, kinda. Well, all of you have fun. As for me, I'm homeward bound."  
  
"Homeward bound," repeated Sayla when Bright recounted the conversation to the White Base crew. "What a beautiful phrase. I wish I knew where home was for me. I'd go there. I'll settle for joining Amuro on Side 7, though."  
  
"Yeah, me too," said Kai.  
  
"And I," added Frau, putting her hand on Hayato's shoulder. "The kids go with us."  
  
Mirai looked at Bright. "You wouldn't be going to Earth now, would you?"  
  
He gazed into her eyes. "I'm career military, Mirai. I'll go where my orders send me. If you want to go to Side 7 with the others, I'll understand."  
  
She reached up to stroke his face. "I go where you go."  
  
"That sounds like a proposal," Kai observed.  
  
"It was meant to," Mirai said, not taking her eyes from Bright's face.  
  
Bright Noah and Mirai Yashima were married on Kyonpei Island a few days later. The bride fussed for a while about making a dress in time, then settled on uniforms for herself and the bridal party. Flowers were shipped in, and the wedding provided a much-needed dose of happiness in this slow, depressing part of the war. Frau Bow caught the bouquet, which Sayla was seen to dodge.  
  
Amuro left for Side 7 after the ceremony. "I'm gonna miss all you guys," he said at the dock, "but I just can't stay here any longer. I just want you to know that even though this whole experience sucked, and I'm still resenting being drafted the way I was, all of you made it worthwhile."  
  
His friends took turns hugging him goodbye, and he left as the White Base crew saluted him.  
  
"He'll be back, you know," Bright confided to Mirai when they were alone in their room, sipping champagne.  
  
"You think he's that dedicated to his friends?"  
  
"No. They're building more Gundams," he told her.  
  
***** Kishiria Zabi put her hands on her hips and surveyed the police scene. She and Char were in an apartment in a high-rise a good half mile from the royal residence. The place was empty except for a rocket launcher on the floor and a neatly-cut hole in a living room window.  
  
The detective in charge of the scene bowed in front of his monarch. "Your Majesty. Your Highness. This apartment was being rented by one Isvan Nohanian. He'd had the place three months. The building does credit checks on all tenants, and his was clean, if not particularly interesting. Credit cards for the past seven years, paid off on time. He himself paid the rent in cash, which is unusual though certainly not illegal and the building management liked it. The neighbours don't remember him much if at all, but that's not a surprise since he sure doesn't seem to have been living here."  
  
Kishiria strode up to the window, painfully aware that she must not be as awe-inspiring as she was a few months ago. She was helmeted with her mask up, but felt the growing bulge in her middle drawing eyes all around the room. {That's right, boys, I had sex with that man over there. Live with it.} "These windows don't open?"  
  
"No, ma'am. That's federal law: buildings that face any royal residence unimpeded must either have no windows or windows that don't open. Our friend here just cut a properly sized hole in the glass. The cutout's over there. The soundproofing in the building's good, though, and the neighbours didn't hear anything amiss until the boom. People's first reaction isn't necessarily to run out the front door of their apartments in their nightclothes, though, letting Mr. Nohanian get away. No fingerprints on the weapon of course, and we're dusting the rest of the place."  
  
"Any known Deykunite connection?"  
  
"Not at this time, but it's probably an assumed name. We're going through all the records at the spaceports, which were of course sealed as soon as word of the assassination attempt got out."  
  
"That's fine, then. Carry on."  
  
In the car back to the palace, Char asked, "Are you going to be turning this over to the federal police?"  
  
"They're already working on it. I'm content to allow the city police to do their job, too." She drummed on the arm of the car door, as she always did when she was thinking. "We're going to have to arrest the members of the Deykunite party in Parliament and whoever's registered on the voters' lists with them."  
  
"I think that's a bad idea."  
  
Kishiria turned her head to look at him. "Why?"  
  
"Remember what happened last time there was a Deykun purge, after the murder of your brother Cicero? I certainly do. Plus, this whole thing stinks. Okay, there's a sign that asks where Artesia is. Why ask that after I've presumably been killed?"  
  
She considered. "You could be right. I'll hold off."  
  
"What about my father's party? I understand a tame version of them was allowed to exist, even after the purge."  
  
"The Contolists? No. As you said, they're tame, but I know there must be some wild ones still out there. I don't trust Delaz, either, which is why I had his fleet head right back out towards Jupiter without landing back here. I may have begged him enough to get him to consider Jion for Jion's own sake, but that won't last long. Certainly he and any stray Contolists stand to gain the most with the two of us gone."  
  
"In that case, a purge would definitely be a bad idea. Your coronation's a month away and the war has merely entered a cold phase while both sides catch their breath. Let's not put Delaz and the Conservatives' backs against a wall. That'd give us a two-front war when things heat back up again."  
  
Kishiria sighed. "Point taken."  
  
"You're coming too close to acting out of anger, not logic. That's not like you. Stop it."  
  
She chuckled softly. "What would I do without you, Char?"  
  
"Commence mass destruction, probably," he said, matter-of-factly.  
  
Kishiria made a small surprised noise.  
  
"Just because you don't invent doomsday weapons every week doesn't mean--"  
  
"I wasn't commenting on that," Kishiria said. "Char, put your hand here. Quick." She grabbed his hand and placed it on the roundness of her belly. "There. Do you feel that?"  
  
Char's eyes widened as underneath her tunic and her skin he could feel something softly prodding outward. "Is that--?"  
  
"She's moving," Kishiria told him. "It's the first time I've felt it."  
  
"So does this make you feel more loving and maternal?"  
  
"Sure. Like a mother bear. I really want to catch whoever tried to kill us, now. They would have killed her, too."  
  
{And how many will have to die to keep your baby safe, Kishiria?} Char thought to himself gloomily as the car pulled underneath the palace. This time, it had been easy to stop his wife. Next time, he knew he might not be so lucky. 


	8. Chapter 8

The White Base crew arrived on Jion without incident on March 3, 0080. After going through intense security, they met with their tour guide, a civilian named Ansgar Morales, in a conference room. Morales had longish hair, glasses, and the look of a professional poet.  
  
"I've been assigned to give you a rundown on on Royal protocol and the do's and don'ts of Jion society", he told them as they settled down comfortably in padded seats, cups of very good coffee in hand. "For starters. The Queen is referred to as Your Majesty the first time you address her, and ma'am after that. The Prince Consort is Your Highness, and same rules apply. The same with the dowager Princess Zena, although it's very unlikely you will meet her. On meeting the monarch....  
  
"....finally, drinking age for beer and wine on Jion is 16, hard alcohol is 18. Do not even THINK of breaking the liquor laws or you may find yourself experiencing the best known quirk of the Jion legal system: being guilty until proven innocent. You will be detained until trial, although if you are allowed bail, you will simply not be allowed to leave the country. However, bail simply does not exist for some crimes, most notably anything to do with narcotics although marijuana is okay with a doctor's note. Are there any questions?"  
  
The laws given were actually fairly libertarian and the only one who had a question was Kai. "Um, Mr. Morales, is jaywalking illegal?"  
  
He looked puzzled at the question. "Perfectly all right, but if you get hit it's your fault. All right. You're all free until tomorrow at 0800 when we'll convene for breakfast and a review of protocol."  
  
"Coming with us, Sayla?" Frau asked her in their hotel room shortly after.  
  
"No. I'd really rather stay here."  
  
Frau walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder. "Right. I keep forgetting you're not really from France. I guess this must be a really weird situation for you.  
  
"I barely remember this place. I don't really want to get to know it again, not without my family here."  
  
"Want me to stay with you?"  
  
"No. I need to process things a bit. I'll be all right."  
  
Frau left her and Sayla rested her forehead against the window which gave a view of the Zum City skyline. She left it to watch TV for a while, but even after Frau returned, it ended up being a very long night.  
  
******  
  
"All finished, Your Majesty. What do you think?"  
  
Kishiria sat in front of a vanity mirror in her room. The man who had just finished working on her hair and makeup was a famous and expensive cosmetician most in demand from Jion actresses on awards nights. Solana Vargas had recommended him, perhaps as a sign of forgiveness for Kishiria's poaching Char. Kishiria could see why Miss Vargas liked the cosmetician so much. This morning she'd met him with her hair down and unbrushed, her eyes puffy after a restless night. Now she was a ravishing beauty who exuded glamour.  
  
She blinked at her reflection. "I can't believe it's me." She turned her head back and forth a little. "How will I ever compete with myself with looks like these?"  
  
"Wait until Prince Char sees you, ma'am."  
  
"He'll have to wait a few minutes." Kishiria was only perfect above the neck. She was still in her dressing gown. "That'll be all for now. Follow Maria out. She'll brief you on where you'll need to be for my touch- ups throughout the day."  
  
Once he was gone, three ladies-in-waiting and a crew of seamstresses brought in The Dress. Kishiria had come to think of it as the couture equivalent of a mobile suit. For today, she would be in a white silver brocade gown, floor length, sleeveless, with black velvet panels in front adorned with the stylized eagles of Jion in gold. Arm-length white gloves completed her outfit.  
  
"You LOOK like a queen, ma'am," Hamaan Khan said, her eyes round.  
  
"One last thing, ma'am. The cape."  
  
Kishiria wasn't looking forward to this, but Lord Elsinore, Master of Etiquette, said it was part of the costume. She stood still as the black velvet monstrosity was buttoned to her shoulders. It was also embroidered in gold and stretched fifteen feet along the floor behind her. There would be pages carrying it, but still. Her shoulders felt the weight within seconds.  
  
"I'd like to have a moment alone, please."  
  
Her entourage dispersed. Kishiria stood alone in the room, looking at herself in the mirror.  
  
This wasn't supposed to be happening so soon. She'd always assumed she'd be on the throne eventually, but not at 25.  
  
Despite her request for solitude, the door opened a crack. "Is it all right if I come in?" Char asked.  
  
"It's all right."  
  
He was wearing an equally elaborate version of his habitual uniform. Kishiria ran her eyes over all the gold braid, piping, and military honours and laughed a little. "You look like a Christmas fruitcake!"  
  
"You look incredible. How're you feeling?"  
  
"Strange. I'm happy to be queen, but I didn't think my father would be dead so soon." She fiddled with the fingertips of her gloves. "I'm missing Garma, too. He was supposed to go onto the throne before I did. We knew he wouldn't live very long, not with his health, and then it would be my turn."  
  
"I have something for you. The mint just sent over the first Queen Kishiria dollar."  
  
He pressed a gold-tone coin into her hand. On one side was her profile, done in sharp relief with the words "KISHIRIA D.G. REGINA IIONIS" and the date. The other side was a picture of Side 3.  
  
"I remember that when the ones with Dad came out, he gave the first ones to us kids," she reminisced.  
  
"It's a weird feeling. My father is still on the twenty."  
  
A knock came on the door. "Your Majesty? We need to be leaving."  
  
"We'll be right there," Char said, and Margaret retreated. He pulled on his own gloves and offered Kishiria his arm. "Here we go, milady. It's showtime."  
  
*****  
  
The White Base crew had seats on the floor of the cathedral and were seated with Bright on the aisle with Mirai, Frau, Hayato, Kai, and Sayla seated inward from there. Bright was uncomfortable, Kai and Hayato were joking with each other and drawing glares from Sayla. Frau and Mirai were actually enjoying themselves, looking around at the crowd and commenting on decor and outfits.  
  
"You know, for someone who doesn't want to be here, you're taking this awfully seriously," Hayato said to Sayla.  
  
"It's an important day in diplomacy," she responded, crossing her arms.  
  
"Shh, they're starting!" Mirai hissed at them at the first notes of a trumpet fanfare.  
  
A parade of royal guards in gaudy livery, Jion nobility in glittering gowns and uniforms, Cardinal Veronica O'Rourke and her subordinate bishops, the Grand Rabbi and most prominent imam in Side 3 processed down the aisle first. After them came the queen herself, followed by her consort.  
  
Sayla couldn't resist taking a peek at her sister-in-law, but Kishiria was resolutely staring straight ahead.  
  
Char, however, turned his head at precisely the right moment to lock eyes with his sister. Sayla gulped, and then he was gone.  
  
"That's one good-looking couple," Kai commented to Hayato as the rest of the procession was simply the Prime Minister and other politicians. "If she and Char every get deposed, they could do porn for a living."  
  
Hayato snickered.  
  
"Boys!" Sayla pleaded.  
  
"What a dress!" Mirai said to Frau.  
  
The ceremony was two hours long. The rabbi read prayers in Hebrew, the imam in Arabic. There were readings on the nature of kingship. The rabbi administered the oath. Jion nobles presented the queen with a sword, scales, a copy of the constitution and other symbolic objects. Kishiria was beginning to look strained by the time the archbishop and Prime Minister finally lowered the crown onto her head and placed the ruby-tipped staff of office in her hand. Not that she had any relief in sight just yet as the nobility came to kneel in front of her and swear fealty. The last one was Char, who stole a kiss from his wife as he rose from his knees.  
  
A reception followed an hour or so later in the palace ballroom. Mirai stood in the crowd with Bright and looked towards the corner where the monarch was settled into a stuffed chair. "It looks like whoever is running this show finally had mercy on that poor girl," Bright said. "Even I can see she's half-dead on her feet."  
  
"I wonder if that crown is heavy," Mirai said.  
  
"It looks like it weighs about a kilogram, but metal and jewels aren't what make a crown heavy."  
  
"Uneasy lies the head and all that?" Mirai asked.  
  
"Exactly. There's already been one assassination attempt, remember."  
  
Now that food was being circulated by perfectly-trained waiters carrying it around on trays, Kai and Hayato were happy. Sayla stuck close to Frau, who was still fairly entertained and aware that she was being a security blanket for the other young woman. Fortunately, this was a role she was used to.  
  
Things wore thin after a while and the White Base crew found themselves milling around with a copy of the newspaper, trying to decide which of the dozens of street festivals they'd attend afterwards. As they were trying to decide between taking the shuttle out to Neo-Aztlan for a Mexican event or something closer to the palace where the headline musical group was "Garma Zabi's old band" they were interrupted.  
  
"The Asocials," said a red-haired page girl coming up behind them. "They perform now in their officers' uniforms. It somehow makes them even more punk, not less."  
  
They collectively blinked at the girl.  
  
"They're pretty good, if you like that kind of thing, but they did lose something with His Highness. I think he was the best bass player since Tina Weymouth, myself." She smiled at them. "That will have to wait, though. Miss Mass? Her Majesty would like to meet you." 


	9. Chapter 9

Sayla looked back across the ballroom to the chair where Kishiria had been sitting. It was now empty. The royals wanted a private meeting with her.  
  
What could she do? She put her drink down and mutely followed the girl.  
  
She was brought into a sunny parlour where the chairs looked comfortable and the tables were the perfect height for tea. Kishiria was in a wingback chair, her shoes a short distance away. Char stood behind her chair, smiling at Sayla. He'd removed his gloves and Sayla's eyes were automatically drawn to his wedding band.  
  
Sayla had been briefed on the proper etiquette. She curtsied and said, "Good afternoon, Your Majesty. Congragulations."  
  
Kishiria reached up and removed the crown from her head, placing it on the table beside her. "Have a seat, Sayla, and call me Kishiria. This is a family reunion, after all."  
  
Sayla sat down. "So you decided to give up your idiotic pursuit of revenge, Casval. Instead of killing Zabis, now you're marrying them. Which is worse?"  
  
Kishiria laughed. "I like this sister of yours, Char! She's trouble."  
  
"I have nothing against you, Kishiria. On the other hand, I have a great deal of resentment for my brother, who abandoned me to kill your family off, then called me weak for not joining him."  
  
Char finally took a seat. "I've had a change in priorities. New Types are the only things that matter. Kishiria has always known this. She was researching before Earth even admitted we were a possibility."  
  
"I admit I was only researching the use of New Types as soldiers," Kishiria said. "Still, people said I was crazy. Said I was wasting tax dollars. Now who's laughing?"  
  
"I am more than a little suspicious of research done on New Types by Old Types who want to exploit--"  
  
Sayla's words were cut off by Kishiria's voice in her mind, saying, {I know your brother hurt you. Forgive him. As one who lost all her brothers with no time to say 'goodbye' or 'I love you', I beg you to forgive him.}  
  
"Kishiria is a New Type," Char said, unaware of the message sent to Sayla. "So is our baby. Kishiria is five months pregnant. You're going to be an aunt."  
  
"Congratulations, Casval."  
  
"I hope you'll consider joining us here on Jion," Char went on. "We're your family, after all."  
  
Sayla looked at the floor. "All my life, I've looked for the place where I belong. I can't say yes, but I suppose I can think about it."  
  
Kishiria pushed herself out of her chair. "Wait for us here, Char. Sayla, walk with me?"  
  
Sayla followed the other woman out to an enclosed garden. "I remember this place," Sayla said. "My mother liked to do her reading here."  
  
"Does the Federation have any idea who you are, Sayla?"  
  
Sayla jumped a little. "I don't think so. I had to tell my shipmates, but otherwise it's a secret."  
  
"You should think about staying here, as Char said. The war isn't over. It's just in a cold phase. What if you get caught?"  
  
"You're being very diplomatic about this, Kishiria. You haven't urged me to 'come home' once."  
  
"I have no illusions that this is not your home. You were only a little girl when you left."  
  
"I was seven."  
  
"I used to babysit for you and your brother. Your father paid cheaply, too, so I did it largely for the fun of pretending you were mine." Kishiria placed a hand under the black velvet panels of her dress. "I'm hoping the baby's a girl, because you were always my image of the perfect child."  
  
Sayla blushed, then decided to equally embarrass Kishiria. "Do you love him?"  
  
"Who, Char?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
Sayla was right. Kishiria was very uncomfortable with the question and immediately started examining the leaves on a bush. "We're friends. We need each other politically, although I think we've been becoming closer as people, lately."  
  
"That's hardly an answer."  
  
Kishiria looked her in the eye. "All right. Remember when you were a younger teen, and there was some famous male, an actor, a singer, a sports hero, and you just absolutely ached to be his? Remember that crush?"  
  
Sayla smiled a little, thinking of a few such objects of desire. "Oh yes."  
  
"I married mine."  
  
Sayla laughed. "Then I suppose you're a lucky woman."  
  
"I hope so. Now, follow Hamaan back out. I'll be out there again soon to end the festivities."  
  
"What did the queen want?" Kai asked when she returned.  
  
Sayla had to think of something quickly, not for her friends but for anyone listening in. "She wanted to meet someone who piloted the Gundam, since Amuro isn't here. Then they tried to talk me into staying, but I said no."  
  
The reception officially ended with the playing of the national anthem and Kishiria retreating from the ballroom. "I'm sure that didn't come a moment too soon for her," said Mirai as they exited out onto the street. "She looked beat."  
  
"At least we can drop all the formalities and be normal people now," Kai said.  
  
"You got that right. Let's go get pizza," Hayato suggested. With no objections, they headed off towards parts unknown.  
  
Back at the palace, Char emerged from his room in the quarters he and Kishiria had moved into to find that Kishiria was already back in the outfit she'd settled on for her casual moments; loose slacks and a man's dress shirt, untucked over her stomach. She was in the process of walking to her private study, followed by Margaret and Hamaan. Both of them were carrying boxes of letters.  
  
"I'm just going to start on the various thank you notes," she told Char. "I didn't expect I'd be getting gifts and messages from every tiny government in the system. Where are you off to?"  
  
Char shrugged. "I was thinking of getting together with the guys for a beer."  
  
Kishiria turned to her assistants. "Go put those in my study. I'll join you there." After they'd left, she went on, "Char, don't you think you should be spending time with your sister?"  
  
"I don't think Artesia wants me in her life anymore. I'm willing to respect her wishes."  
  
"I think she does. She's certainly very concerned about your happiness. Char, listen. Sayla--and she's Sayla now, just like you're Char--has every right to be furious at you. You abandoned her after both your parents died. I know you had this whole revenge thing happening, but haven't you finally realized how deranged it was for you to put killing us Zabis ahead of taking care of your own flesh and blood? Go and apologize to her, Char! She's going to need you."  
  
"I've seen to her needs already. My gentle sister will never want for--"  
  
"So you're telling me you paid her off."  
  
"I gave her her share of our father's legacy."  
  
"Char, you have a choice. Walk out that door and apologize to Sayla or walk out the door and back to Bachelor Officers'." Kishiria turned on her heel and stalked off towards her study.  
  
Shortly after, the White Base gang was sitting in Mirai's and Bright's room with the aforementioned pizza and a case of beer. A knock came on the door. Bright answered it and turned back to call, "Sayla! It's for you."  
  
All conversation in the room halted and the temperature dropped what felt like ten degrees as the Red Comet walked into the room, dressed in the scarlet uniform they all knew too well. Sayla, who was sitting on the floor with Kai, gaped up at her brother.  
  
"Artesia, I came to apologize to you. I abandoned you when you needed me and treated you with contempt when you chose a path that didn't follow mine. I was wrong and I am sorry."  
  
There was more silence. Kai looked like he might say something, but wisely restrained himself. Finally, Sayla stood."  
  
"I've waited five years to hear you say that, Casval." She walked up to him and put her arms around him. Char hesitated for a moment, then returned the embrace. Sayla's hands clutched at the back of his tunic and he realized she was crying.  
  
"Artesia...don't do that. It's all over now. You can stay here, we'll be a family again."  
  
Sayla stood back and shook her head. "No, it's all right. I've built a life for myself here with my friends. To come back to Side 3 now wouldn't feel right. I'll come back to visit after your baby's born. I think Kishiria wants that."  
  
"She's become very fond of you already. Perhaps it's better that you stay away. I don't think I could live with both of you united against me."  
  
Sayla laughed.  
  
"I can see you've already eaten, but maybe I could take my little sister out for ice cream?"  
  
"I think you could do that." Sayla looked to Bright for approval, and he nodded his head. Sayla got her shoes and walked from the hotel room with her brother. By the time they reached the first street corner, they were holding hands. 


	10. Chapter 10

Cecilia Irene leaned back further into the cushions of the sofa and watched the rain through the glass doors of the cottage. She was in comfortable slacks and a thick sweater she'd knitted, a cup of tea on the table in front of her. Four fat, happy cats of various colours dozed around the room, perched on the arm of the sofa, on chairs, and one on a cat tree. There were ducks playing in the lake beyond the deck outside.  
  
This sort of day would have been sheer heaven a few months ago. Now, despite the comfort of her surroundings, her heart was as empty as the bed she used to share with Giren.  
  
The cottage was simple, two rooms one above the other with a bathroom. The bottom room was bright with a high ceiling, so packed with their things it was hard to walk. There was a kitchen in one corner, a dining room table, bookshelves, a stereo, and a computer desk half-buried in papers. The sofa was the centrepiece of the room, placed to look out onto the lake. From here, Giren had dictated several of his books to her, reciting to her what he wanted her to type, giving citations and quotes when needed. She had always enjoyed that, it reminded her they were a team.  
  
Not that their days in the cottage were all work. She had many memories of the two of them pursuing their interests together or simply near to each other; she cooking and he writing or painting, she knitting and he researching, the two of them swimming in the lake or walking hand-in-hand, and of course, sleeping in each others' arms after long hours of making love.  
  
So Giren and Cecilia had spent as much of their free time there as possible. It allowed them to carry on their relationship away from prying eyes, especially those of Giren's wife Princess Ingrid. To make things more difficult, Degin was a great believer in marital fidelity. Degin had loved both his wives, and urged his two married sons to fidelity, even though Degin himself had failed in it at least once. It didn't seem to matter to him that Dozel and Zena were a love match while Giren and Ingrid had been put together for politics alone. While Cecilia couldn't bring herself to hate the old man the way Giren did, she did learn to rankle every time Degin asked Giren when he and Ingrid would be giving him grandchildren.  
  
Cecilia sighed, thinking of the baby Giren hadn't let her carry to term. It had been the only time he'd denied her anything. The loss was a double pain, both because she'd wanted that baby then and because it would have been a way for her lover to live on in some way now. She'd tried finishing his latest book from the notes he'd left, but it was too difficult. That baby of his wouldn't be born either.  
  
Now she was living on her military pension in this cabin he'd willed to her, her costs kept low by the fact that she rarely went out. She had no idea where to go or what to do next. The newspaper from the day after Kishiria's coronation was still lying on a dining room chair. She figured she should read it, but the cover shot of Char Aznable stealing a kiss from his lady wife as she sat enthroned was too much. It should have been Giren on the throne, with Cecilia by his side as queen. Reality was never going to be the same again.  
  
When the knock came on the door, Cecilia nearly jumped out of her skin. She reached under the pillows to her right and withdrew the firearm Giren made her keep there when she was alone. She pulled back the hammer and approached the door slowly. She looked through the peephole and her heart sank to see no less than six royal guards outside. It was over. They'd finally come to get her.  
  
"Lt. Irene?" one asked, "please don't be frightened. You're not in any trouble. We just need to talk to you."  
  
"Who sent you?" she snapped.  
  
"Her Majesty. We have a warrant to search your house. Not for your arrest," he assured her.  
  
Cecilia lowered the weapon and opened the door. The guards, who were young and earnest-looking, didn't rush inside. "I'm Captain Ohanian. May we come inside? It's very wet out here."  
  
She nodded, taken aback by the show of courtesy. The captain held his hand out for her weapon and she mutely handed it over. The soldiers came in one by one and even slipped their boots off instead of tracking water on the rugs. A moment later, a figure in violet and black entered behind them and Cecilia saw she'd been deceived.  
  
"Kishiria!"  
  
"Hello, Cecilia." The monarch removed her cloak and hung it up. Cecilia looked down jealously at Kishiria's thickening waistline. "I always heard about Giren's private retreat and always wanted to see it. I thought I'd keep you company while the troops here had a look around."  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
"Ideas." Kishiria seated herself on the couch. "No matter what we thought of Giren, he was a genius, and we need that now. We just want to see if he had any plans for economic and industrial recovery after the war." She looked back at the orange tabby who was sitting on the arm of the couch behind her. The cat blinked copper-penny eyes at her.  
  
"He kept journals, but I don't think I want them being read."  
  
"You don't have a choice, but rest assured that we're not here out of prurient curiousity. Giren was cunning and while some of his ideas were completely insane, like the colony laser that killed my father, others were brilliant, and that's what we want."  
  
Cecilia looked down, feeling violated. One of the things Giren had treasured about this place was that none of his siblings had ever set foot there and now Kishiria, the one he hated most, was seated comfortably on his side of the couch. The faster she gave them what they wanted, the faster they would leave. "Underneath the computer. There's a box of red diskettes that are nothing but his strategies and ideas."  
  
The box of diskettes went into a briefcase. The soldiers kept looking. Cecilia picked up the black and white cat who had been Giren's favourite and held her on her lap. Kishiria intuited what was going on and asked, "What was special about him to you? You don't have to answer if you don't want to."  
  
"People should know," Cecilia said. She breathed deeply before going into so personal and private a subject. "It was as if there were two Girens. There was the public one whom you knew, and there was the one only I knew. How would you describe your brother, ma'am?"  
  
Kishiria looked wry. "Draconian. A schemer. Cruel. Sadistic. Hateful."  
  
"He was all that and more," Cecilia admitted, "but he had a bright side that he kept very, very secret. He had to let it out once in a while or he'd go mad. Well, even more mad. He was quite insane, ma'am, I've no illusions about that. I was the one he chose to see this other side of him, a side that was kind, loving, gentle, meek, and passive."  
  
"Passive?" Kishiria looked amused.  
  
"Alone with me, he was completely submissive. He was such a commander of men, he just couldn't continue that 365 days a year. So alone with me, I was his mistress, literally. He was my obedient slave."  
  
Kishiria looked as if Cecilia had just told him Giren turned into a pink rabbit whenever no one else was watching. "How did you get that kind of power over him?"  
  
"He gave it to me as a gift. No one could take power from him, Kishiria, you know that. He had to give it to someone, though, and he chose me." For the first time in a long while, Cecilia smiled. "Sure, he'd hired me as a secretary because I've got 36 Ds and he wanted help he would enjoy looking at. He was neutral about me for a long time until one day he got one of his migraines. Maybe I'm a New Type of a sort because I can find the sources of a headache and make it go away. I covered his eyes with a wet washcloth and massaged his hands until the migraine was gone. After that, he was mine." Cecilia smiled at the memory. "He invited me here with him and how could I say no? When we got here, he gave himself to me as a present, handing power over him to me."  
  
Kishiria snorted. "Where were you when he came up with that colony laser?"  
  
"Unfortunately, giving me power over him didn't equal letting me know everything that he was thinking. I did veto some of his ideas, so he just didn't tell me about some of them."  
  
Kishiria considered. "I have a job for you. Come back to the city with me. We'll discuss it."  
  
****** "General Char, the mobile suit you've been waiting for."  
  
Char entered the hangar in the port, which was filled with activity related to the return of the last Jion troops from Earth. He followed the major along, looking at the unloading. He'd never seen more dejected-looking soldiers in his life. They'd been cut off from supplies for too long; boots were worn through, uniforms were threadbare, and it looked as if food had been at a premium for a while, too. He felt a stab of guilt. They had concentrated on the space war and neglected the soldiers trapped on Earth, even if it did mean cutting themselves off from a cache of mobile suits.  
  
"Here we are, sir. She's an older suit, but she's been really well-kept as you can see. We're just finishing the paint job now."  
  
Char looked up at the commander-style Zaku-II. Wear and tear on it seemed minimal, and he could see little of it through the fresh red paint. "It's going to be good having one of those around me again," he commented. "I'd like to talk to the mechanic who's been taking care of it, learn about its quirks."  
  
"Here she is." The officer presented a very young female warrant officer. Her blonde hair was cut in a short, elfin style that only accentuated her large green eyes. She saluted him, and Char thought she seemed familiar.  
  
"So you're the caretaker of this Zaku? Looks like you've done an excellent job."  
  
The woman nodded. "She's seen some action, very ugly towards the end. She handles perfectly though; I drove her myself to the evac."  
  
"Show me the interior."  
  
There wasn't anything unusual about the cockpit beyond a strange feeling of hauntedness, a heaviness in Char's chest he couldn't quite describe, but which filled him with sadness. The young warrant officer stood behind the pilot's seat, looking absent and stroking the leather. "Memories?" Char asked.  
  
She gazed at the small amount of floor space in which she stood. "Yes."  
  
"I didn't catch your name, soldier?"  
  
"No one gave it to you, sir. Warrant Officer Estenbach."  
  
"Estenbach. I've heard that name before..."  
  
Char's mouth fell open in horror as he remembered where he'd heard the name, where he'd seen the girl. He dropped to his knees and looked underneath the console. Sure enough, there was a bit of verse written there:  
  
O God give your judgement to the King to the King's Son your justice, that he may judge our people in justice and the poor in right judgement. GZ, 03/25/0079  
  
"He always used to like to write something in his machines," Iserina Estenbach said. "He was a warrior-poet, in the classical sense. It cost him his life."  
  
"I have a job for you," Char said. "Come back to the palace with me. There's someone there you should meet."  
  
***** Kishiria Zabi entered the dining room wearing the court dress she affected as a compromise between uniform and casual clothes. Cecilia followed her in and took a seat where shown. Char came in, still in uniform, followed by the blonde girl. Kishiria remained sitting.  
  
"Char, you didn't say you were bringing company."  
  
"You want to meet this girl. Kishiria, I present to you Warrant Officer Iserina Estenbach. Garma's fiancée."  
  
Kishiria blinked. "This is very interesting. Char, I present to you Lt. Cecilia Irene, Giren's lover. It would seem royal widows are just popping out of the woodwork today. Even for princes who weren't married!"  
  
"Kish, please," Char said in a pleading tone. "Warrant Officer Estenbach has suffered. She's--"  
  
"I know who she is," Kishiria said icily. "After Garma died, I read his journals. If only the silly boy had told you about us earlier. Father would never have forbidden your marriage. He could never deny Garma anything."  
  
"After Garma died I went to his base," Iserina said. "I wanted to take revenge. Lt. Darlota talked me out of it, said I should take Jion citizenship and join the military instead. They let me take care of his Zaku and his Dopp. It gave me a reason to live. I've shot down twelve Feddie planes in that Dopp."  
  
"The girl's an ace," Kishiria said. "Are you adding her to your command, Char?"  
  
"I certainly am. What about Lt. Irene, there?"  
  
"I'm adding her to my research staff. I think loyalty should be rewarded. Both you ladies suffered a great deal because of my brothers. It's time to let the family make it up to you."  
  
Hours later, Iserina and Cecelia got onto an elevator together. As it descended, Iserina asked, "Did you know Garma?"  
  
"I dated him in the Academy. He recommended me to Giren as his secretary. He was sweet, but I obviously clicked better with his older brother. What did Garma ever say about Giren?"  
  
"Not a lot. I don't think he knew Giren very well. He said he was politically the most wise."  
  
Cecilia smiled. "Giren wasn't exactly the warm fuzzy type, so that's a nice compliment. He would have liked it."  
  
The elevator came to the bottom and the two women exited out towards the palace gates. "You know what we need?" Cecelia asked.  
  
"What?"  
  
"A drink." She linked arms with Iserina and the two not-quite-sisters walked together into the night.  
  
Author's Note: This chapter follows MOVIE CONTINUITY obviously. I don't make a habit of it, but I found Iserina's ultimate fate to be extremely pointless, and I just wanted to let her live. Since the movies gave me an "out", I took it. 


	11. Chapter11

Hayato Kobayashi walked into the house he now shared with Frau Bow. The two teenagers were still too young to be married, so they settled for living together with the Gang of Three as they continued high school. Hayato came up behind Frau, who was making a large salad in the kitchen, and kissed her.  
  
"How was judo practice?" Frau asked.  
  
"Same as usual. Olympic-bound." Hayato was swarmed by the kids and stopped to tussle with them. "What's on the menu for tonight?"  
  
Every Friday was reunion night, when the White Base crew who could make it converged on Hayato's and Frau's for a barbecue. Mirai and Bright were on Earth now, but the rest of the friends had settled on Side 7 as their home.  
  
"Try this." Frau popped some of the salad into Hayato's mouth.  
  
"That's good!"  
  
"I added some of those herbs I've been growing, so there's basil and cilantro and chives in it." She put the salad bowl in the refrigerator. "It's Amuro's turn to bring the main course."  
  
"Which means we'll be going hungry. Kids! Want to go to the grocery store?"  
  
"He'll remember," said Frau. "I trust Amuro to bring the food."  
  
Hayato was silent for a moment, then picked up Katsu and held him upside- down. "C'mon kids, let's go to the grocery store!"  
  
***** Kai Shiden winced as he discovered that the place in the hospital Sayla was working in was the morgue. Nonetheless, he pushed the door open and stepped into a cold, cement-floored room.  
  
"Sayla!"  
  
"Room six!"  
  
Kai entered the indicated room and found Sayla, in surgical scrubs, calmly suturing the chest of a corpse. Kai turned his back. "Uh, hi, Sayla, having a nice day?"  
  
"Can't complain."  
  
"So, what're you up to these days?"  
  
"The medical examiner does the autopsies, I stitch them back up," Sayla explained. "They pay me, but I don't really need the money. I do it for the experience."  
  
"Doesn't that creep you out?" Kai felt gooseflesh on his own back.  
  
"Nothing does that to me anymore. Besides, what's to be scared of in here? They're just people."  
  
Kai turned. Sayla had finished her task and covered the corpse to the chin with a sheet. The body was that of a woman in her mid-20s with short brown hair. The eyes were slightly open and there was a hint of a smile on the face. Kai approached slowly and looked down.  
  
"She's sort of a nice looking person. What happened to her?"  
  
"Kidney disease."  
  
Kai opened his backpack and removed a camera. He took a single shot of the face.  
  
"That's a new camera." Sayla pulled off her latex gloves and started undoing her apron.  
  
"I've been getting really into my photojournalism class."  
  
"Well don't give up writing. I love what you write."  
  
"So do my profs at the university. I've been handing in chapters of my journal of the One Year War and getting rave reviews."  
  
"Sounds like you hit on a career path."  
  
"Hope so. Weird to be back in school after spending the last year or so at war."  
  
"I know what you mean. One minute I'm killing people, the next, I'm back to learning to heal them." She covered the body and rolled it into a refrigerated chamber. "Let me go change and get washed up. I have to stop at a store and pick up something for dinner."  
  
As Hayato predicted, Amuro forgot to bring the raw hamburger and hot dogs. He'd brought several bottles of soda though, and since Hayato had picked up what Amuro hadn't, there was plenty of food.  
  
"So what's going on with Bright and Mirai?" asked Frau.  
  
"Mirai sends me e-mail every day," Sayla said. "She and Bright are settling in on Earth. They miss us a lot. She's been ordered to take piloting courses so she can fill in the gaps on how to pilot a spaceship, but she says it's working against the instincts she spent so long developing."  
  
"She really is a natural talent when it comes to that," Frau agreed.  
  
"They also had a pregnancy scare, but it turned out to be just nerves on her part. Bright's been working a lot, and he's not allowed to tell her what he's doing. It has him in a bad mood."  
  
"Poor Mirai. Being alone with Bright when he's in a bad mood has got to stink."  
  
"Especially when he doesn't have Amuro to knock around," said Kai, who was walking past with a hot dog in his hand.  
  
"Hey!" yelped Amuro.  
  
"So what are you up to, Amuro?" asked Hayato.  
  
"Working for Earth Fed. We've got some Jion mobile suits that are almost intact and I'm studying them. I like that; it feels like I'm following in my father's footsteps.  
  
"Living in the lab?" Hayato asked.  
  
"How'd you guess?"  
  
Hayato patted him on the shoulder. "I'll send Frau along with a food basket for you."  
  
Sayla sat down with them. "Studying Jion suits? Does that mean you're building something out of them?"  
  
"That I can't answer," Amuro said as Haro came bouncing off the table, with the kids running around the table in hot pursuit.  
  
Sayla picked at her potato salad. Amuro working on a secret project, Mirai being further trained as a pilot and Bright being in a continuous bad mood was pointing in only one direction.  
  
*****  
  
Kai stopped the car back in front of Sayla's apartment building. "Same time next Friday?"  
  
"I'm not going to be in the morgue next Friday. You can meet me here, or at Frau and Hayato's."  
  
"Gotta admit, that'd be a little more normal. Here, I'll help you get your bike out of the back."  
  
As he lifted the bicycle from the back seat, Sayla shyly asked, "Do you want to come inside?"  
  
Kai was stunned, but tried to hide it. "Sure. Okay."  
  
He carried the bike up the exterior staircase to Sayla's second floor apartment. She unlocked it and he followed her in, resting the bike against the wall where she indicated. The place was completely anonymous. Sayla had used her money on new furniture, but the comfortable-looking couch was a dull mushroom colour, the coffee table a functional beige thing. It was buried under papers and notes with a television remote on top. The small living room had a cut-out in one wall looking into a small kitchen. Across from the kitchen was the bathroom. The bedroom was at the end of the hall, he assumed. There were no posters on the wall and except for a photo of the White Base crew at Bright's and Mirai's wedding, no personal touches at all.  
  
"Do you do anything but study, Sayla?"  
  
"No." She was in the kitchen, and he could see the light from the open fridge. She came out carrying two beers. "That's why I invited you in."  
  
"Thanks, but if I drink that, I won't be able to drive home."  
  
Sayla untwisted the cap and handed it to him. "Would that be a problem?"  
  
Kai raised an eyebrow. "Miss Mass, are you propositioning me?"  
  
Sayla sat down on the couch, looking up at him calmly. "Yes, I am."  
  
"Oh boy." Kai sat down beside her. "You know, if I had ever thought this would happen, I wouldn't have fantasized about it so much."  
  
"If I didn't know you fantasized about it so much, I wouldn't have asked you."  
  
"Everyone's expected you to end up with Amuro."  
  
Sayla shook her head, blonde hair swishing. "I love Amuro dearly, but he's so...." she waved a hand in the air as she tried to think of a phrase "...high maintenance. You have to be after him to make him eat, you have to be after him to make him sleep, you have to force him to put down the robot parts and bathe. Unless you enjoy that, he isn't very interesting." She sipped at her beer thoughtfully. "I'm becoming dehumanized myself, Kai. I'm spending too much time with bodies and books about bodies. I've always been like that, but the war made me think twice about being so single-minded. I realize I'm so driven because I didn't want to think about Casval. Now I see that Casval has more of a life than I do, with a wife who is perfect for him and a baby on the way. That's given me pause."  
  
"Why me, though? There's still Marker, Oscar, Job-John..."  
  
"You make me laugh, and that's not easy."  
  
"You are pretty grim most of the time. No offense."  
  
"It's true! You drove me crazy at first, Kai, but when the chips are down, you come through. You've been very protective of me and my feelings since White Base was destroyed. You've had the best handle on the political situation. There's a lot to recommend you, whether you like it or not."  
  
"Holy crap. I'm a catch." Kai grinned around the neck of the bottle.  
  
"So would you like to stay here tonight?"  
  
"Sayla, I've been wanting to do that since I first laid eyes on you."  
  
Sayla put her arms around him cautiously and Kai inclined to kiss her. She clearly had no idea what she was doing, so Kai murmured some suggestions to relax, open her mouth, follow his lead. She learned quickly, and within a few minutes it was as if they'd been kissing for years.  
  
"This is nice," Sayla whispered to him.  
  
"It is." Kai raised a hand experimentally to one of her breasts, cupping it gently, feeling its weight. He looked to Sayla for approval, and she nodded. He kept stroking her gently over her shirt as he kissed her again.  
  
Sayla pulled away and Kai was about to apologize when she said, "Maybe we should move to the bedroom?"  
  
"Great idea."  
  
*****  
  
Her room was just as featureless as the living room; a pine dresser, a desk and computer surrounded by even more textbooks and papers with Sayla's twin bed in the middle. She lay spooned against Kai, who draped an arm protectively over her.  
  
"You all right?" he asked her softly.  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
"Just thought I'd ask. Losing your virginity isn't something that happens every day to a person."  
  
Sayla lay on her back and reached up to stroke Kai's face. "I'm a doctor, I knew what to do. I'm a little sore, but that's the worst of it."  
  
"I'm not talking about what you're feeling here or here," Kai said, touching her head and the covers over her upper thighs. "I'm talking about what you're feeling here." He touched her chest over her heart.  
  
"Oh." Sayla looked thoughtful. "I don't know. Isn't that awful? I feel..." She frowned as she tried to put it into words, "I feel I made a bold step into a new life. I've always hidden myself from people, never wanting them close. I didn't just open my body to you, Kai, I opened my emotions to you as well, and that was the scary part. But it's funny, I don't think I could have done it with someone who wasn't from White Base. Isn't that strange?"  
  
"No. The same thing's happened to me. I've had dates since we got back to Side 7 and I've never been able to-you know. I think we've all been bound together through this war, and we have to get used to that."  
  
"Good." Sayla pressed her head against his chest. Kai hugged her. They lay still for what seemed like a long time. Finally, Kai said, "That was way better than any fantasy I've ever had."  
  
"It was good? I mean, I had the technical know-how, but the stylistic has yet to come to me."  
  
"It was good. Better than that, it was great. You're so beautiful, and I've wanted you for a long time. It just changed though, over the course of the war. When I first met you, you were such a cold, arrogant bitch I wanted to fuck you to get you off your high horse, pardon my language. But as I got to know you better, I started wanting to be your lover instead, even just for fun. Then I started seeing that you weren't arrogant, you were scared, and I wanted to make love to you to see if you'd feel better. I'm a jerk; it took me almost the whole time we were on White Base to see how lonely you were."  
  
"Oh Kai." Sayla's arms went around his neck and her lips covered his. They lay holding each other and kissing for a long time. "I'm glad it was better than your fantasies."  
  
"Now, if only your sister-in-law were here with us."  
  
Sayla grabbed a pillow from the head of the bed and smacked Kai with it. She was laughing, though, and it wasn't long before they were busily making love again. 


	12. Chapter 12

Sayla steered her bike up to the front of the University of Side 7 Medical School lecture hall. As she locked up she realized she was humming to herself, and that was a new habit. Not too surprising though, she mused, considering her change in life roles. In addition to dedicated medical student and proud veteran of the One Year War, she was now a happy girlfriend. That was something she never thought would happen to her.  
  
It was Friday again, and she had a test today. Sayla felt prepared. In the first week or two of her relationship with Kai, they had tried spending most of their time together at her place, his being a disaster area shared with another journalism student. The experiment had failed. Trying to study in the same small quarters had invariably led to making out, which had invariably led to---Sayla steered her thoughts away from that subject, trying to keep them on the test ahead. They had decided that getting together on weekends was probably the best thing to do.  
  
It had been six weeks, and Sayla and Kai decided it was time to tell the others. After this test, the real scary thing would happen.  
  
Sayla was a diligent student though, and exiling Kai from her apartment paid off. She entered the last answers into the terminal on her desk and scored a 97%. Excellent.  
  
Soon, she and Kai were back at Frau's and Hayato's. As everybody was digging in to their dinner, Kai stood up and said, "Hey, everybody."  
  
People looked up, but nobody stopped talking.  
  
"Hey, shut up, I'm trying to tell you all something. Uh, I know you guys weren't expecting this at all, but--"  
  
"You're dating Sayla!" yelled Job-John.  
  
Kai glared at him. Marker stopped to swallow his piece of sandwich and said, "Kai, you leave with her every Friday night. We all figured that out weeks ago."  
  
"Even so," said Frau, coming up behind the appalled Sayla and resting her hands on her shoulders, "we're all very happy for you two. Surprised at first, but happy. Does this mean there's another White Base wedding coming up?"  
  
"No," Sayla answered, "we're not even ready to get engaged yet, much less married."  
  
"We'll talk about that after we graduate from university." Kai reached down and took Sayla's hand.  
  
"Although we are buying a double bed this weekend. My twin bed is nice for cuddling, but a little too small for sleeping," Sayla said. Kai sat down again and she rested her head on his shoulder.  
  
Sayla was about to keep talking when Kai's cell phone went off. He reached down to check it and said, "We have to turn on the news, sweets," he told Sayla.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"You'll see."  
  
Seeing Sayla and Kai dropping down in front of the television caused the rest of the crew to do the same. Kikka had been using the remote as a baby doll and brought it, dressed in a little hooded suit, to Kai. Kai took off the hood, turned on the news, and gave it back to Kikka.  
  
"Curling scores from Side 1?" asked Hayato.  
  
"No, not this. Wait for it."  
  
"Once again, our top news stories coming up. Earth Federation President Rossetti approves a new tax on the Sides. Critics call the move biased against spacedwellers. Los Angeles prepares for the Academy Awards, postponed since the Occupation. And it's a boy for Jion royal couple Queen Kishiria and Prince Consort Char Aznable. These stories and more after these messages."  
  
Sayla gaped at Kai, who squeezed her shoulders. "Congratulations, Auntie Sayla."  
  
The rest of the crew sat on and around the couch to watch. Frau kissed Sayla on the cheek in congratulations. Amuro stood by, watching the news with an impenetrable look on his face.  
  
The other stories went by and finally they came to the one about the royal family. Kishiria was seated in a hospital bed, dressed in an expensive brocade dressing gown and holding her newborn son. She'd had an elective caesarian and looked fresh and rested, not to mention glowingly happy. Char was seated beside her, looking a little confused as he kissed his wife for the camera.  
  
"What's that they're naming him?" asked Oscar.  
  
"Casval Garma Deykun-Zabi," Sayla beamed. "They've decided to use my family name. I'm really happy about that." She looked into her lap. "I just wish I could send my brother a message to congratulate them."  
  
"I'm sure he knows, Sayla," Frau said.  
  
The rest of the weekend passed uneventfully, although Sayla bought every newspaper she could find with pictures of her nephew. She and Kai purchased a double bed and had it scheduled for delivery during the week. Sunday afternoon, they kissed goodbye and Kai left until next Friday.  
  
The following Wednesday, Sayla's doorbell rang. Expecting the bed, she opened the door without thinking about it. Outside were three Federation military police.  
  
"Sayla Mass?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Sayla Mass, you are under arrest." One of them came forward with a pair of handcuffs. She stepped back.  
  
"What did I do?"  
  
"That'll be explained later. Come with us, please."  
  
"I have to be charged!"  
  
"Not under the War Powers Act, miss. Now please come along quietly or we'll have to subdue you."  
  
Sayla nodded mutely and turned her back so they could cuff her. She knew what this was about. Somehow, someone had discovered her true identity.  
  
*****  
  
Kai Shiden was in class when two Federation officers came in to pick him up. They apologized to the professor for interrupting the class, then put hands on his elbows and guided him out of the room before he could even protest.  
  
"What's going on?" he squawked in the hallway.  
  
"You reservists have been called back into duty. You need to report to the military base ASAP."  
  
"Reservist! I'm not a reservist! I'm a poor schmuck who got my ass hauled into service whether I wanted to or not!"  
  
"Your point being...?"  
  
Kai groaned. "Forget it. Let's get this over with."  
  
He was driven to the base and escorted to a featureless room with a blackboard and rows of chairs. In the chairs, as Kai had expected, were all of his former White Base crewmates. Standing at the front of the room was Bright Noah. Kai looked around, smiled briefly at Mirai, then noticed Sayla's absence. He observed his friends' faces and realized that they were noticing Sayla's absence, too.  
  
"Where is she?" Kai asked outright.  
  
"We thought she'd be with you," Frau said.  
  
"She's not. I got dragged out of class. What's going on, Bright?"  
  
Bright looked down at his podium, caught. "I've been informed that Sayla won't be joining us."  
  
Kai asked the next question. "Where are we going?"  
  
"Mirai and I have flown in with the newly-christened White Base class ship General Revil. We're all to ship out next week."  
  
"Okay. Why won't Sayla be joining us?"  
  
"Sayla has been detained."  
  
Murmurs of protest from around the room. "What did she do?" Frau exclaimed.  
  
"She's been determined a security risk."  
  
"That's ridiculous! Sayla's as good as any of us!" Hayato protested.  
  
"Not for us to question why," Bright grunted. "We--"  
  
"Bullshit!" snarled Kai. "If they want to detain her, they better take me into custody too, seeing as I'm the one who's closest to her and all."  
  
"That is, of course, an option," Bright told him, a veneer of calm over obvious frustration. "You may volunteer yourself if you wish."  
  
Kai stood silently, seething. Bad enough they were impressing him into service again. Imprisoning the woman he loved when she had done nothing but serve nobly and well was enough to make him want to kill.  
  
Just not for the Federation.  
  
The more he knew, though, the more options he had. Kai took a seat. "Okay, I won't question. Just tell me what's going on."  
  
Bright nodded and turned on the computer projector. 


	13. Chapter 13

Kishiria burrowed further back into the pile of pillows behind her and stamped VETO on a budget. She signed and handed the paper to Hamaan to slide into an envelope and seal. Margaret handed her another bill, but Kishiria set it aside and said, "Maria? The baby, please."  
  
Maria placed the two week-old into his mother's arms. Kishiria unbuttoned her dress and started nursing her son. Her lady-in-waiting watched for a moment and said, "I still can't get over how he never cries."  
  
"That's because I'm a New Type with a New Type baby," Kishiria told her. "Ti-Cas doesn't need to cry. If he's hungry or needs to go, I feel it. I can anticipate all my baby's needs. Can't I, my little sugarbear?" She stroked her infant's cheek as he fed.  
  
The new Crown Prince of Jion had entered the world via caesarian section at a convenient moment in the queen's schedule. The reason given was that Kishiria wanted to avoid the possibility of going into labour as the country went to war. The real reason, known only to Kishiria and Maria, was that Kishiria had been terrified of dying in childbirth the way her stepmother Nalisse had. Her obstretrician had obeyed the queen's wishes and the baby prince's parents couldn't have been more pleased. Char had drawn upon his years of speaking French for the nickname "Ti-Cas" which was short for "petit Casval".  
  
Hamaan sat with her elbows on the bed, watching. "I never thought I'd see a baby cuter than Mineba."  
  
"Of course he's cuter than Mineba. He's got Char for a father. Mineba had Dozel." Kishiria moved Ti-Cas to the other breast. "I know you go over to Zena's to play with Mineba often."  
  
"Mineba is fun. She's crawling around now and putting things in her mouth."  
  
"Wait till this one is crawling too. Then you can race them." Kishiria put Ti-Cas on her shoulder to burp him, then gave him back to Maria. "All right, where was I?"  
  
She was reading through a benign-sounding law which had several disturbing rider clauses when the speaker phone went off. "Yes?"  
  
"It's Cecilia, ma'am. News from Earth."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"I think I'd rather bring it to you in person, ma'am."  
  
Kishiria trusted Cecilia's judgement. "All right."  
  
Cecilia, recently promoted to captain and endowed now with the title of "Lady", came into the room with some printouts in her hands. She bowed and handed them to Kishiria. The queen read and her expression darkened.  
  
"This is an outrage."  
  
"Yes, ma'am."  
  
"Have you told the Prince Consort?"  
  
"No, ma'am. I thought it would be best for you to tell him."  
  
"You're probably right. Hamaan--"  
  
Her page girl was already on her feet. "He's down at the mobile suit base, ma'am. I'll call for him."  
  
Char arrived an hour later, whereupon Kishiria sent her women from the room. Char sat down beside his wife, who took his hands gently.  
  
"Maria's cure-woman grandmother said I should stay in bed for two weeks after the baby was born. It's been two weeks as of today, and a good thing, too. We're about to have trouble."  
  
"What's happened?"  
  
"Char, Sayla's been arrested on Side 7."  
  
"What?" His hands closed tightly on hers.  
  
"Ow..."  
  
"Sorry. What happened?"  
  
"Intelligence reports that Sayla Mass was seized a couple of days ago without being charged. It doesn't take much imagination to figure out that it's because she's your sister. The rest of the former White Base crew was rounded up too, but that's because they're about to be mobilized on a new ship."  
  
"This is an act of war."  
  
"Arresting one of the Royal Family without charge? Oh, I'd say so. The question is, are we prepared to go to war over Sayla? We knew the war would go hot again sooner or later."  
  
Char was gritting his teeth. "If they do anything to my sister, I swear to god, Kishiria, I'll.....I'll find a good-sized asteroid and push it with my own Zaku onto Lhasa if I have to."  
  
Kishiria squeezed his shoulder and got out of bed. She strolled into her dressing room and Char followed her. Kishiria pulled her dress over her head and dropped it on the floor, then reached for one of her uniforms. She pulled on her trousers and noted immediately how loose they were. She changed into a pair she'd worn in early pregnancy and they fit. Kishiria slid her arms into her tunic and zipped it up. She had opted to retain her old colours of violet and black, although her tunic now bore an elaborate gold eagle across the chest as well as the gold on the collar marking her as supreme commander of the armed forces. A fabric mask was rolled up inside her collar, to be raised when she felt the need.  
  
Char felt the atmosphere in the room change as his wife transformed from young mother to warrior-queen. Kishiria pulled her boots on and walked past him to the gun locker. She entered the combination and removed her firearm, the same one she'd used to dispatch Giren, and strapped it on. She walked up to Char and put her arms around him.  
  
"Don't worry. We will get her back."  
  
"I believe you."  
  
They took a moment to exchange a long, deep kiss. [Funny how we get hot for each other in moments like this], Kishiria messaged to him telepathically.  
  
"It's the aphrodisiac of power," he said to her verbally. "I've got the most powerful woman in the Sol system in my arms. How can I resist?"  
  
"Let's see how much I can do with that power. Hamaan!"  
  
The red-haired girl appeared when called. "Yes, Your Majesty."  
  
"We're going to need some black ops, I think. You know who to call?"  
  
Hamaan smiled evilly, a frightening thing to see on a 12 year old face. "She'll be happy to hear from you. I'll contact Major Garahau right away."  
  
Char shot a frightened glance at Kishiria. "Garahau? Cima Garahau?"  
  
"The one and only."  
  
"The woman is crazy!"  
  
"She's the commander of the space marine unit the 'Princess Kishirias'. She's perfect. Now come along. I have to speak to my cabinet."  
  
*****  
  
The new bed was uncomfortable. Sayla awakened to stiffness in her upper back. Feeling anxious, she reached for Kai, only to touch an unpainted cinderblock wall. Of course. She was in prison, not her little apartment as she'd been dreaming.  
  
Sayla had lost track of how many days she'd been imprisoned. Her days were all exactly the same, the only differences being whether the guards allowed her something to read, or if the brass decided to interrogate her. She'd actually come to welcome the interrogations, as they were a relief from the endless tedium.  
  
Not that there was much she could tell them.  
  
"Surely the daughter of Jion Deykun would have some idea of what was going on in the breakaway republic her father founded."  
  
Sayla laughed humourlessly. "I was seven when Casval and I left. The Ral family had taken us in, and we fled a purge of Deykun supporters after the murder of Saslo Zabi. We went to France, and my brother left when he was 16. I never saw him again until Queen Kishiria's coronation."  
  
"You had a private conversation with Kishiria Zabi. What did you two discuss?"  
  
"Char Aznable and I argued, because I was angry at him for abandoning me. Kishiria wanted us to reconcile, and for me to move to Side 3. I said no."  
  
"And you met with General Aznable after the coronation."  
  
"We discussed family things. We caught up on each other's lives. I told him about my friends, he told me about how he was coping with the idea of becoming a father so soon."  
  
"So you did discuss White Base."  
  
"Not White Base. My friends. There's a difference. Don't underestimate my loyalty to those people, Colonel. My loyalty to them extends to loyalty to the Federation."  
  
Sayla knew that her loyalty to the federation was unshakable. Whether this loyalty was returned had yet to be seen.  
  
*****  
  
Kishiria sat in the throne, the staff of office resting against the side of the chair. Officers clustered around her, discussing potential ways of re- opening hostilities. Hamaan stood nearby, waiting for any command from her royal mistress.  
  
"Your Majesty, Lt. Colonel Cima Garahau!"  
  
Kishiria shooed the officers out of the room, with the exception of Char Aznable. They exited through doors behind the draperies as the tall, black- haired woman strode forward, tapping her fan against the palm of one hand. Kishiria began to stand, then remembered that as queen, she was to remain seated unless another monarch was approaching. While Cima would certainly argue that she qualified, Kishira was sure that it would be against etiquette.  
  
Nonetheless, Kishiria extended her hands in greeting. "Cima! It's been far too long."  
  
Cima knelt on one knee and gave a courtly kiss to her lady's hand. "It has indeed, Your Majesty."  
  
"I'm sorry I haven't had time to visit with you or your troops properly. I trust you received my gift though?"  
  
Cima grinned. "Yes, Your Majesty, and thank you."  
  
"It's an antique of course, a coat made out of seal skins. I knew that it had been made from the hides of little baby seals with great big eyes who were bashed mercilessly on the head. Of course, I thought of you."  
  
"That is precisely why I love it." The two women laughed, then Cima looked up at Char. "General Aznable. I was going to berate you for impregnating my commander, but as it's resulted in an heir to the throne, I'll save it."  
  
Kishiria laughed. "Come on, Cima. Let's talk someplace more comfortable." She stood and the two women wrapped companionable arms around each others' shoulders as they left the throne room.  
  
"Did I miss something?" Char asked Hamaan.  
  
"Col. Garahau is commander of the company that bears Kishiria's name. They specialize in espionage and dirty work. When Iffish Island in Side 2 was gassed so the cylinder could be dropped on Earth? Her ship carried the canisters."  
  
"This could be bad," Char said.  
  
"I trust Kishiria," Hamaan said.  
  
In a formal parlour, Kishiria rang for refreshments and sat down to talk to her friend.  
  
"It really has been too long, Cima. I've been afraid that you would think I'd abandoned you."  
  
"The Lili Marlene and I have been holding tough. We've kept busy watching the Delaz fleet and you've been keeping us well-stocked enough."  
  
"I've come home. You haven't been able to do that."  
  
Cima's eyes fell. "Nor will I. Giren turned my home colony into the colony laser."  
  
"The one which killed my father. We're united in that. Cima, I will see to it that you have a new home. You're a well-placed officer and you'll receive a good house here in the capitol as part of that."  
  
"Now how am I to remain in command of the Lili Marlene if I settle down here?"  
  
"You won't. I want you as head of Intelligence."  
  
Cima nodded. "I could be happy."  
  
"I owe you. You took one hell of a bullet for me, playing the role in Operation British that you did."  
  
"I'm glad you noticed."  
  
A servant appeared with a bottle of wine and some food. Kishiria poured and gave a glass to Cima, then sat on her friend's lap.  
  
"We would have made one hell of a couple," Cima commented. "Pity we're both spoken for."  
  
"It's still fun flirting with you. It'll drive Char crazy."  
  
"Yesssss. I will enjoy that. But I don't think you called me here so we could get drunk and act like sorority girls?"  
  
"No, I have a job for you. This is the situation. Char's sister has been arrested on Side 7. I want to use this as an excuse to start the hostilities again. In the meantime, somebody has to break Sayla out of prison, and you were the first person who came to mind."  
  
"A prison break should be within my capabilities," Cima said. "General Aznable was able to do recon very simply, if I recall. They'll have closed that security hole, but from everything I've been reading about Federation security, there'll be others. Plus there's always someone who is willing to turn. I just have to find who that is."  
  
"That's part one. Char is very professional, but I know he'll be distracted until his sister is safe. The second part is how to approach the war. We've recovered our mobile suits, but we're short on fleet."  
  
"Delaz has got plenty."  
  
"And we are having some luck getting pilots away from him. Anyway, there's only one goal on my mind, and reaching it will not be pretty."  
  
"I think I know what you're planning."  
  
Kishiria nodded. "I'm going to re-take Solomon." 


	14. Chapter 14

Hamaan Khan sat in the conference room of the Lili Marlene, looking at the screen. Cima Garahau was projecting images of the Federation Forces base at Side 7, trying to brainstorm with her crew on how the best way to break in.  
  
"A ship can't get near the colony, obviously," Cima said. "I'm trying to figure out how to get our suits in there so we can brute-force the prison. We do know where Sayla's being held, which is the important thing."  
  
"I think you're trying too big," said Hamaan.  
  
"Could you repeat that more grammatically please, Hamaan?"  
  
"I meant what I said. What are we trying to do here? Find one person who's willing to sell out. We don't need mobile suits for that, ma'am. We just have to single out our target when he's off the military forces base. He gets us on base. We don't have to do that ourselves."  
  
Cima nodded. "So you're suggesting we enter Side 7 as civilian visitors and make contact with our potential friend. You do realize that if we are captured, we could be shot as spies?"  
  
"Yes. I admit it's risky, but it's an often-used method."  
  
Cima's second in command, Major Deitrov Kosell, spoke up. "That should provide enough of a distraction for the Lili Marlene to come right up and be ready for all of you to rendezvous with us."  
  
"In one mobile suit? That'd be more than just a tight fit. Four people don't fit in a mobile suit cockpit, no matter how friendly they all are."  
  
"Of course, Char's sister is a Gundam pilot," Hamaan mentioned. "Steal that and you'll be the greatest hero on Jion."  
  
Cima's face didn't change expression exactly, but it lit up from inside with hope. Hamaan realized she'd hit Cima where it hurt, all right. Cima had served her lady well, but it had earned her anything but heroism. That was what she ached for, more than anything.  
  
"Two persons per mobile suit. That'll work. So Hamaan, since you've been a fountain of wonderful ideas so far, how do you propose we disguise ourselves to get in?"  
  
Hamaan smiled sweetly and skipped over to the raven-haired major. She took the woman's arm and wrapped it around her shoulders.  
  
"Miss Garahau, will you be my mommy?"  
  
Cima blinked, then threw her head back and laughed. "A mother-daughter trip to Side 7. That could work, I'm old enough. Now, who do we have from the General Revil who might be able to get us in?"  
  
"Just about everyone, if I interpret this correctly," Cecilia Irene said from the corner. "We've been intercepting the interception of the crew's e- mails. Poor things. They think their correspondence is private." She shook her head. "There's nothing here that would get them in real trouble. They are adhering to the rules about what you can put in personal correspondence. Still, there's a lot of anger here over Sayla Mass's being imprisoned." She flipped through some pages. "However, something I haven't wanted to share with the Prince Consort is e-mail from the weeks before this happened. It appears Miss Mass, or Lady Artesia, take your pick, found herself a lover. One Kai Shiden. Their correspondence to each other is pretty hot stuff. I'm willing to bet the rent that he'd be willing to turn for us in order to get his sweetheart back."  
  
"Get us everything you can on this fellow then," Hamaan said before Cima could say a word. "We'll have to move out right away to make contact before the General Revil leaves port. Get us all the information on Kai Shiden's current movements that you can. Major Garahau and I will contact him and rescue the princess. Col. Garahau, you give the commands to your crew."  
  
"Right. We'll get going, as Lady Hamaan has said. She and I will disembark onto Luna 2 and take a commercial flight to Side 7, posing as mother and daughter. We'll make contact with Kai Shiden and convince him to help us out. We'll use Federation mobile suits to escape and rendezvous with the Lili Marlene." Cima smiled widely. "Doesn't that sound like fun?"  
  
To Hamaan's surprise, her crew whooped to indicate that yes, it certainly did.  
  
#####  
  
"It was not easy to make the decision to return to Jion, General Aznable," said the man sitting across the desk from Char Aznable. "I still think of myself as Prince Dozel's man. As such, it feels strange to be signing on with Kishiria Zabi's forces."  
  
Char leaned back in his desk chair and studied the soldier in front of him. Lt. Commander Anavel Gato was "the Nightmare of Solomon" as Char was the "Red Comet of Ruum". He'd destroyed three battleships to Char's five. Char knew the man was a good pilot, but he was still not Char's caliber and he suspected Gato knew it. Gato was a couple of years older than Char and taller. He was big-boned, but also carrying a few extra pounds. His most notable features were a large, determined chin and greying blond hair tied severely into a ponytail that fell below his shoulder blades. He was a good looking guy, but it was clear he was wound far too tightly.  
  
"Kishiria's forces are the forces of the Jion people," Char commented.  
  
"That is what brought me here. Delaz is mourning the death of his patron more than is reasonable, and I am glad to have had the chance to get away. Not that patrolling the helium fields was that fine a prospect, either. Perhaps I don't agree with all of Her Majesty's views, but at least she's alive."  
  
"Disagreeing with Her Majesty in principle is completely permissible, as long as there is also obedience."  
  
"When I joined the service, I swore loyalty to His Majesty King Degin, his heirs and successors. Queen Kishiria is his successor. Enough said."  
  
Char opened up the folder in front of him. "From all accounts, you've served well." He glanced up at Gato who was sitting with one leg over the other, hands folded. "You've brought a Gelgoog with you?"  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
Char turned a page, read the information on the suit. Char's Zaku was from the beginning of the war, and technology changed a a breakneck pace. He wanted that Gelgoog. Simply demanding it of the other man felt like an abuse of power though.  
  
Just then, the door opened and Iserina Estenbach came in, carrying an armful of printouts. She handed it to Char, pointed out a few things, then turned to leave. That was when her eyes met Gato's, and Char heard them both inhale sharply. There was no further communication between the two of them, although to Char's New Type senses, the atmosphere in the room had changed drastically. Suddenly, Char saw a way to what he wanted.  
  
"Your assistant?" Gato asked, trying to sound uninterested.  
  
"Warrant Officer Estenbach," Char said. "She's from Earth and joined our forces after her Jion fiance was killed by Feddies. She felt the best way to honour his memory was to carry on his work. She takes care of my Zaku. Good mechanic, very devoted."  
  
"I see." Gato's posture had not changed, but Char could "feel" a slightly faster heartbeat, deeper breathing.  
  
Char smiled a little. "I have a proposal for you. You have the more advanced machine. By all rights, it should go to me as commanding officer. However, I'm willing to trade mobile suits with you, your Gelgoog for my Zaku. I'd like to keep our respective mechanics on the machines since they each know them best."  
  
"So I would be working with Warrant Officer Estenbach then."  
  
Char laughed inwardly. Gato was projecting his attraction for her so loudly that Char was almost aroused himself. "Of course. She knows that Zaku like her own body." A mention of Iserina's body should do it, Char thought. Sure enough, Gato's heartbeat quickened again, even though his expression and body language didn't change an iota. "It's an historic suit as well, built for a member of the Royal Family."  
  
"Let me see this Zaku."  
  
They went out to the hangar and floated up to the platform where Iserina was working diligently on an elbow joint. "Estenbach? This is Commander Anavel Gato. He just came in from the Delaz fleet, bringing a Gelgoog with him. Since that's the more recent suit, I'm changing machines with him. I want you to stay on the Zaku, though."  
  
Iserina nodded, putting out slightly fewer vibes than Gato. Probably the proximity of Garma's memory, Char reasoned. "Pleased to meet you, sir. I'd shake hands, but," she showed her oil-coated hands.  
  
"I'll leave you kids to get acquainted. Do we have any red paint left?"  
  
"Yes sir. There's some other pilots who'll be wanting paint jobs though, I'm sure."  
  
"Rank has its privileges," Char said. "Last time my mobile suit wasn't red, nothing good came of it." He floated off, leaving them alone on the platform.  
  
"General Aznable says this is an historic mobile suit?"  
  
"Yes. It belonged to His Royal Highness Prince Garma."  
  
"He also says your fiance was killed by Feddies."  
  
"That's true."  
  
The implication hit Gato full force and he jumped a little. "Are you saying your fiance was--?"  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
"Well! It will be an honour to fly this machine, won't it, then?"  
  
"I'm glad you see it that way." She looked him up and down. "The seat may be a little small for you."  
  
Gato tried it out, made an adjustment. "No, it's all right. The controls are a comfortable distance." He peered at her. "What was an Earth girl doing engaged to one of our princes? If you don't mind me asking."  
  
"Long story."  
  
"Ah. In that case you can tell me over dinner."  
  
Iserina looked surprised. "Only if you're buying."  
  
"Would a gentleman do anything else?"  
  
She grinned. "All right then. But now, let's talk Zakus." She picked up the diskette on which she kept the maintenance log and inserted it into a reader. She pulled up a stool, set it beside the pilot seat, and began to give him the suit's history.  
  
#####  
  
The Lili Marlene left Side 3 within days. Hamaan stood on the bridge, grinning with excitement. The Princess Kishirias were a strange bunch, exactly what one would expect of the flashy Cima. The bridge crew walked around with tunics open over undershirts, except for Kosell, who liked to be barechested. Perhaps "liked" was too strong a word, Hamaan thought. She'd never seen the man smile once, his craggy visage pulled into a permanent scowl. After observing them for a while, Hamaan deduced that it was Cima who liked to see him with his shirt open, and that he did it for his captain. Hamaan wasn't sure if that was romance or just too much dedication to the chain of command.  
  
"First time you're seeing any action?" Cima asked later in her office.  
  
"Yes ma'am. Unless you count the days right before Kishiria's coronation."  
  
"I'm glad I missed that. A Bao A Qu was probably easier. We've phoned ahead and there are two tickets to Side 7 for Mary Reed and her daughter. That's you. Your job, furthermore, is to watch outside the Federation base."  
  
"Why me?"  
  
"Because you can play at being a schoolgirl who is crushed out on soldiers. I could presumably play a hooker, but the MPs would be more likely to chase me away than a harmless little girl like you. Here's your costume."  
  
Hamaan looked in the bag.  
  
"Harmless schoolgirl?" Hamaan pulled out the short-sleeved white blouse and plaid kilt. "Cima, you're going to make every pervert in ten miles come after me."  
  
"As long as one of them can lead us to our friend, fine. You're a big girl, you can take care of yourself."  
  
Hamaan rolled her eyes.  
  
Almost a week later, Hamaan had her role down pat. She stood outside the base, clad in the blouse, which was tight around what bosom she had, and the kilt which was too short for her to sit down without constantly minding where the hem was. She could just picture Cima cackling to herself back in their hotel. Bitch. No wonder she and Kishiria were such good friends.  
  
Hamaan watched the traffic going in and out of the base and settled on a grey-clad officer whose "vibes" felt somewhat uncomfortable to her. Such a man would be likely to take an unhealthy interest in an under-dressed schoolgirl. She took a pen and notebook out of her bookbag and walked up to him, hoping he'd mistake her being cold for being excited and nervous.  
  
"Um, hello Captain. I'm trying to get some autographs?"  
  
He looked down at her as if she were a steak dinner. Hamaan's skin crawled. This guy probably had some interesting things in his hard drive at home.  
  
"How can I help you?"  
  
Hamaan suppressed revulsion and got a little closer to him. "I like history and I'm looking for some of the old White Base crew people?"  
  
"It's the General Revil now, but if you stick around, you should see some of them. They usually go off for dinner at around 1700. If you want me to keep you company until then, I could."  
  
{Oh, I'll bet, you gross thing}, Hamaan thought, but she giggled.  
  
By the time she finally spotted her prey, Hamaan had begun to wonder why any woman was heterosexual. She'd gotten this idiot, who of course was married, to tell her more about the base than she'd ever imagined. All she had to do to keep him babbling was shift the way she was sitting, inhale deeply, show a little more thigh. She was revolted, but intrigued by how easy this was. She'd gotten Bright and Mirai Noah's signatures because of him, as well as Amuro Rey's. Now that was something she'd keep as a souvenir. Kai Shiden wasn't interested, so as soon as he walked off, she made sure to drop her pen. Her "friend" waited for her to bend over to pick it up, but Hamaan blinked at him until he leaned down to get it. Then she kneed him in the face and took off running.  
  
At around 1830, Hamaan called Cima Garahau.  
  
"I've got him cornered. You need to move on him next."  
  
"You can't bring him in?"  
  
"I can't follow. He's in a bar and I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm only a little kid."  
  
"It's easy to forget. What's the address?"  
  
"The King Richard at 1426 Catalina. He looks like a guy who goes in to drink with a mission."  
  
"I'll be right there."  
  
"Oh, and Col. Garahau?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Please bring me a pair of pants. Ta." Hamaan hung up the phone. 


	15. Chapter 15

Hamaan Khan waited in the shadows of a park across from the bar until she saw Cima Garahau's tall figure coming down the sidewalk. "I thought you'd never get here," Hamaan said as Cima handed her a pair of corduroy pants. "I'm freezing!"  
  
"My turn now." Cima undid the buttons of the mantle she habitually wore over her uniform and let it fall. Beneath, she was wearing a sleeveless red sheath dress, cut low in the bodice and high above the knee. It hugged every curve and accentuated her black hair, which was longer than even Kishiria's.  
  
"Wow, Col. Garahau, you are a hottie!"  
  
"Like the dress? Kosell got it for me. I've never worn it outside my quarters before." She looked across the street. "Is that the place?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Looks like a good place to grab a beer and a guy. What's he look like?"  
  
"Feddie uniform, early 20s, longish brown hair going grey. Kinda cute in a bug-eyed and frantic sort of way."  
  
"Just my type. Cover me." Cima tossed her long mane and sashayed across the street like the Queen of Sheba.  
  
The place was a pseudo-British pub. Lots of English memorabilia, fake panelling. Cima ordered a dark ale and it was served to her in a tall pint glass. Yummy. Her target was in a booth, alone, staring into the inky depths of his glass of stout. Bug-eyed and frantic was right, but this was one of the men who had taken over the first Federation mobile suits and flown it till war's end with little to no formal training.  
  
She slid into the booth beside him. He looked up at her, then down at her cleavage, then back at his beer. "I'd rather be alone," he said.  
  
"You're one of the White Base pilots. I so admire those guys," she purred.  
  
"Thanks, but I've got a girlfriend already." He took a few deep swallows from his glass.  
  
"I know. She's in trouble. Kishiria sent me to help."  
  
He stared at her. "No way."  
  
"Let's not talk here. Act like I'm your date." She stood and Kai followed her, putting a proprietary arm around her waist. Cima could tell he didn't mind the act, but he wasn't overdoing it. Good. Char would enjoy hearing that his sister had chosen a loyal man.  
  
Hamaan met them outside and returned Cima's mantle to her. They returned to the womens' hotel room, where Cima immediately opened up her briefcase. "Kai, this is Hamaan. Kai, I'm Major Cima Garahau. We need you to get us two womens' uniforms. I'm 5'10 and take a size 10 dress."  
  
"I'm a size 5," Hamaan said.  
  
"The PX is closed right now," Kai said, "so I can't buy uniforms. Are you up to breaking into a dry cleaner's?"  
  
"Give me a deadbolt lock in an alley and we're in. Now. You need to know where Sayla is before we do any of this." Cima took some black and white surveillance photos and spread them on the bed. "These were taken from a spy satellite a couple of days ago. Good thing for us Side 7 is an open plan colony. If they haven't moved Sayla, she's in this building here." Cima pointed to a temporary-looking structure attached to the administrative complex. "As a matter of fact, here she is." The next photo was grainy, but very clearly showed Sayla in manacles and leg irons being walked between two soldiers towards the complex.  
  
The photo had the desired effect. Kai's expression darkened. "I haven't seen her in weeks. At least I know she's alive."  
  
"We will take two mobile suits first. You tear open that building and take Lady Sayla out. I'll give you cover."  
  
"Make it three," Hamaan said. "I can pilot as well as the next person."  
  
Cima stared at her. "You're 12."  
  
"Yes, and I've already qualified on a Zaku. There's no age limit."  
  
"All right then. You'll have two suits as cover. We'll hit, run, and rendezvous with my ship the Lili Marlene. It's a Zanzibar, it'll get us back to Side 3 in a hurry."  
  
Kai was memorizing the photos. "You lead. I'll follow."  
  
"You realize that if you do this, you will almost certainly never be able to return to Federation space again?"  
  
"I'll be a traitor and a deserter. Yeah. I know."  
  
"Doesn't that bother you?"  
  
"Look, it's not like I'm doing this for money. I'm doing this because a good soldier who just happens to be the woman I love is being punished for something her idiot brother did. I'd rather be a traitor and a deserter than a coward who won't stand up for her."  
  
Cima nodded. "Then let's begin." She brought out a small ball of plastique.  
  
A dry cleaner's near the base revealed hundreds of Federation uniforms. The rank tabs were patches embroidered onto the collars, which was convenient, although they had to dig to find a uniform for Hamaan that wouldn't make her into a pre-teen chief warrant officer or the like. The use of child soldiers by the Federation at least made her youth less conspicuous. The much older Cima could make do with any rank, although she ended up as a sergeant. Kai turned his back while they changed.  
  
"What about ID?" Cima asked as she rolled her hair into a bun, fastening it with a pin she pulled from her purse.  
  
"I can think of ways to get you in," Kai said.  
  
"So can I. If I have my cracker on my ship take out the electrical system around the base, I can---"  
  
Kai made a dismissive gesture. "Amateurs hack systems. Professionals hack people.* Follow me."  
  
Soon after, Kai came up to the guardhouse with Cima draped over his shoulder. Hamaan followed, looking sour. Kai walked straight in and showed his ID. "I hafta take Sgt Stadenko here to womens' housing. I came across her while I was pub crawling. She didn't know the pink girly drinks were so strong."  
  
The guard nodded. "Who's the kid?"  
  
Hamaan stared at the man. He backed off.  
  
(Across the base, Amuro Rey glanced up from his workbench, feeling the presence of a New Type. He mentally sniffed the air. It wasn't Char Aznable, it wasn't anyone he knew. He went back to work.)  
  
"Kid's one of the New Types. Stadenko here's her handler." He adjusted his grip on Cima. "The good sarge is gonna be in a lot of trouble in the morning, aren't you?"  
  
"Sorry," muttered Cima. She raised a hand to her face. "I gotta throw up."  
  
"Take her away," the man said, disgusted. The trio left.  
  
It was a while until they were out of sight. "Good job, gals," Kai said.  
  
"It helps that I really am a New Type," Hamaan said. "I told the nice man so."  
  
"It helps that I really have been that drunk, many times," Cima said. "It didn't take a lot of range for me. Okay. Lead on."  
  
They went to the hangar. Kai watched nervously as Cima and Hamaan wordlessly pulled sidearms from their tunics and attached them to their belts. Inside, a Gundam and three GMs stood immobile.  
  
"No yelling 'Sieg Jion' or anything like that, okay?" Kai whispered.  
  
"I get the Gundam," Cima said firmly, and ran for it.  
  
"Take the GM over there," Kai told Hamaan, and hightailed it for his own machine.  
  
"As ever, we escape through the plot hole," Cima sighed as she settled into the pilot's seat. Silly Feddies, leaving their suits fully armed and the keys inside. She turned on the power. The screens lit up, showing the hangar around her and the two GMs coming to life. She belted herself in.  
  
"Cima, you there?" Kai asked.  
  
"Right. Hamaan?"  
  
"Right here, ma'am."  
  
"Okay. Kai, move out and get your girlfriend. We'll cover you."  
  
Soldiers were starting to pour into the hangar, and Kai did his best to kick them aside rather than stomp them like bugs. He didn't know if kicking them was any better, but at least it didn't feel like deliberately killing them. He headed straight for Sayla's prison. He could hear the mobile suits behind him. All he had to do was get Sayla. Those girls were bloodthirsty enough for all four of them, he could tell.  
  
Hamaan was grinning inside her GM. It wasn't controlled like a Zaku, it was simpler. As long as she didn't hit the red button on the stick while facing her allies, she'd be just fine. Ahead of her, the GM was bending over the outbuilding, gently picking at the roof. Where were the Federation forces? All she saw were these ground soldiers, which she didn't even bother shooting when stomping or sweeping at them with her hand would do. It was like being a giant in a fairy tale or something.  
  
Kai was being as delicate with the roof as possible. He didn't want falling masonry to hurt Sayla. The roof peeled back though, like the proverbial sardine can, leaving the inmates exposed to the air. He shone the GM's headlights inside until towards the centre, he saw a blonde figure in orange cowering against one wall.  
  
"Sayla! It's me, Kai! Hold on!" He lowered the hand in and she climbed aboard without a word. He opened the cockpit and a moment later, Sayla was stumbling forward into his arms.  
  
He wanted to stop and hold her, to tell her that everything was going to be all right. There wasn't time. He could only say, "Get on my lap and hold on tight. This is going to be a bumpy ride."  
  
To her credit, Sayla knew that now was not the time for questions. She adjusted herself so he could see over her shoulder and pulled the seatbelts over both of them.  
  
"Kai! Follow me!" Cima's mobile suit started running towards the back of the base and launched itself upwards, using the Gundam's takeoff capability. Snipers with jetpacks were all around them, but these things were equipped with new armour, protecting them quite well. The airlock doors were ahead.  
  
"Kai! Open those for us!" Cima ordered.  
  
Kai reached down and tapped in the codes to open the door. They slid open and the suits soared inside. The doors closed behind them, trapping some of the snipers inside with them.  
  
"Kai, you're not going to...?" Sayla asked.  
  
"You have a better option?" Kai asked. "Cima, Hamaan, shoot those guys so we don't space them alive, okay?"  
  
Lights sparkled around them, each ending the life of a soldier as the outer doors slid open.  
  
"We have company," Hamaan said.  
  
"I don't see--oh right," Cima answered. "Kai, we don't have to go far. These coordinates." Numbers came up on his screen.  
  
"Gotcha."  
  
Some hastily launched GMs appeared in the distance. They hit their thrusters. Cima, in the Gundam, was having a hard time controlling the thing. "Why's this machine so sluggish?" she asked Kai.  
  
"Dunno, I've never been inside of it. Standby." He aimed his vulcans at a nearby opponent and let him have it. "Probably tailored for Amuro. He's a New Type."  
  
"Damn, Hamaan, you should have taken this."  
  
"You wanted it so badly, ma'am. Try the beam rifle."  
  
Cima brought it around. "This feels better."  
  
The Lili Marlene rose into sight then, weapons blazing. Cima ordered Hamaan and Kai to pull in closer to her, so they wouldn't be mistaken for the enemy. The formation had the added benefit of allowing them to cover Cima, Kai thought, but it didn't anger him, he'd have done the same. A few minutes later, they were docked within the Jion ship.  
  
Kai held Sayla's hand as they floated from their suits into the corridors of the Lili Marlene. They were met by the impassable Kosell, who nodded at Cima.  
  
"I lost the red dress," she confessed to him. He shrugged.  
  
"I stink," Sayla observed softly. Kai had a chance to look at her for the first time since she'd fallen into the cockpit. She was dressed in an orange prison jumpsuit, pale, her hair stringy. She did stink, but Kai wasn't going to agree with her and make her feel worse.  
  
"Why don't you and Kai take my quarters tonight. There's a shower in there and the bed's large enough for two." She peered down at Sayla. "I think the doctor should take a look at you. I'll send her by."  
  
Kai supported Sayla as they followed Cima to her quarters. The bedroom was big enough for a couple of lockers and a double bed, with a bathroom to the side. The room was decorated like an Arabian harem fantasy, with draperies on the walls, carpets on the floor, the double bed covered in bright paisley sheets with animal furs as accents.  
  
"Wow," Kai said.  
  
"Well I'm not going to spend my nights staring at bare steel walls," Cima said. "I like to be comfortable." She opened a locker and took out a sweater and skirt. "Here, Sayla. I'll have to send down to Supply for underwear for you."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"I'll call for some food and the doctor."  
  
Kai joined Sayla in the shower. She was standing motionless, the hot water splashing onto her. Kai washed her like a child, shampooing her hair thoroughly. "How long has it been since they let you wash your hair?"  
  
"They let me take one shower a week. I was almost due."  
  
He sank his fingers into her soapy hair, feeling a week of oil rising to the top, rinsing out under the hot water. He wasn't used to seeing Sayla like this. She had her low moments of course, and during the war she'd had plenty of doubts and fears. He had never seen her non-responsive though. Once she was clean he wrapped her in towels and steered her to the bed, drying her off before dressing her and himself. Kai had just gotten her under the covers when the ship's doctor came in.  
  
"It's just shock," the doctor told Kai when she was through examining Sayla. "It doesn't appear she was physically harmed, but she's been kept isolated, underfed, and awake. Being rescued just must have been too much for her. Here's some sedatives if she needs them, but probably the best thing now is to keep her warm and let her get sleep and food."  
  
Hamaan soon appeared with a meal for Sayla, who broke out of her stupour and pounced on it. An anonymous marine showed up with clean clothes for the both of them. Alone again, Kai curled around Sayla protectively. She rolled over and began to sob against his shoulder. There was nothing to do except hold her until the storm passed and Sayla fell asleep in his arms.  
  
Some hours later, Cima poked her head into the darkened bedroom and heard deep, even breathing. She withdrew and closed the door. Let them sleep. This was no time to tell the exhausted pair that the Federation and the Kingdom of Jion had just re-declared war on one another.  
  
*Wave of the Zaku hand to Don McKillican, Bell Canada Security, who made this observation. 


	16. Chapter 16

The crew of the General Revil was called to the mess hall of the ship shortly after Kai Shiden's spectacular desertion. Bright Noah was the last to arrive, and the darkening bruise across the left side of his face made it perfectly clear that the brass considered this his fault. He took his place at the front of the room.  
  
"I'll first confirm the rumour. Jion operatives got to Kai Shiden, who helped them escape with Sayla Mass, two GMs and the Gundam Amuro had just finished. A Zanzibar gave us the slip and presumably headed back for Side 3. As this was happening, a message came in from Queen Kishiria, saying that she considered the unlawful seizure of a member of the Royal Family to be an act of hostility upon the Kingdom of Jion, and that this attack on Side 7 was their retaliation. The Federation will, of course, be responding in kind. Our orders are to proceed to Kyonpei Island and wait for further instructions."  
  
"Who's going to replace Kai as a pilot?" Amuro asked.  
  
Bright looked to the blond and curly-haired tech. "Job John, you've flown a GM. Are you up to it?"  
  
"Up to it?" Job's hangdog expression brightened a little, "Through the war, I've been a tech, a radar operator, a tail gunner and a pilot. Stand in for Kai? I could probably stand in for God if I had to."  
  
"Well I'm not going anywhere," Bright responded dryly. "Glad to hear you're so confident. Now, Amuro. Those Jeeks took your Gundam. What backup do you have?"  
  
"My plan B? Oh, they took that," Amuro said, smiling a little. "Plan A. is still safely bunkered underground. The Gundam they took was a good machine, and I'm proud of it, but I'd been done with that for weeks. It was supposed to be sent to Earth. After what happened the first time on Side 7 with the first three Gundam prototypes, I kept Columbia underground, away from any spy satellites."  
  
"Columbia?"  
  
"That's what I call this Gundam, after my home province of British Columbia."  
  
"I hate to sound like Kai, but you can just pull those things out of your ass, can't you?" Hayato asked.  
  
Amuro shrugged, smirking.  
  
#####  
  
Sayla slept fitfully for a good 24 hours. Kai stayed faithfully by her side, soothing her when she started to whimper in her sleep. She finally awakened, bathed, ate, and took an interest in her surroundings.  
  
"To use one of your favourite phrases, holy crap!" Sayla looked at a bearskin that looked back at her. She put a t-shirt over the face.  
  
"Yeah, our rescuer's quite the character. I think Jion's going to be a scream. Everybody seems to be trying to out-flash each other."  
  
"How long till we arrive?"  
  
"About five days. Maybe six, it depends on how much sneaking around this ship has to do as we near Earth, and I think it's going to be a lot. We'll move into our own cabin and take it easy for now. Pretend it's a really boring cruise or something. They have a pool table, and I've been wanting to teach you how to play."  
  
Sayla looked alarmed. "You were working on a book! Kai, have you lost all that now?"  
  
Kai picked up his uniform tunic and reached into a pocket. He showed her a diskette. "I never leave home without it. Especially since I seem to get grabbed and taken to unexpected places. Let me tell you, it's going to have one heck of a sequel."  
  
They spent the next few days "vegetating" as he'd suggested; playing pool, reading, and making love. When they finally docked at Side 3, there was a familiar figure in red waiting for them.  
  
"Casval!" Sayla let go of Kai's hand and raced into her brother's arms. Char hugged her closely, stroking her hair, telling her that the nightmare was over, that she was safe. Eventually she let go and pointed to her companion. "Casval...I mean, Char, this is Kai Shiden, my boyfriend."  
  
Char looked him up and down and didn't seem pleased. Fortunately, Cima joined them just then and said, "General, having worked with this man, I can attest to his good character."  
  
"Your intentions towards my sister are honourable?" Char asked.  
  
"Char," Sayla interjected, "you're talking about someone who just gave up everything he had for me. Rather a high price for a fling, don't you think? Besides, I snared him, not the other way around."  
  
Cima snickered behind them. Char looked distinctly uncomfortable and finally said, "There's an apartment waiting for you at the palace and then you can go looking for clothes. Kishiria's lending you her professional shopper."  
  
"What about me?"  
  
"You're a guy, aren't you? You don't want to be on that expedition." Char pulled out his wallet and gave him a sheaf of bills.  
  
"Wow. That's quite a handful of dead Zabis."  
  
Sayla looked at the money. "That's not a Zabi. That's my father." Kai found a new bill with that portrait on it and handed it to her.  
  
"I'm impressed," Cima told Sayla. "You've been together what, eight weeks, and already you've trained him to hand you his money. Great work."  
  
"Sayla, I have to go to a meeting now," Char told her. "I'll see you for dinner, all right?" They hugged again and he returned to his own car as a Zabi house limo arrived for them.  
  
#####  
  
An hour later, Char and Gato were at the front of a smaller auditorium as mobile suit pilots streamed in. "I have no idea who most of these people are," Gato whispered to his general.  
  
"The last survivors of A Bao A Qu," Char said. "A good number of Earth Occupation veterans as well. We might not have many, but at least we know we have the best. Or the luckiest. Ah. There's my second wingman now. Captain Duarte!"  
  
A compact, black-haired man whose bronze skin pointed to his Nahua roots came down the stairs. He was clad in a brown Earth Attack force uniform and saluted smartly. "Sir!"  
  
"Commander Anavel Gato, I'd like you to meet Captain Octavio Duarte Gonzalez, commander of the Royal Cuauhtemocs. Originally from Neo-Aztlan, they stood between our North American holdings and South America until November."  
  
"Three teams survive until today," Duarte said. "However, I understand you want me and Commander Gato here for your personal team?"  
  
"That's right, and I will explain."  
  
Gato was peering at Duarte. "Your group is the one that does that branding ritual as an initiation, right?"  
  
"It's true, but I wish we were known for more than just that," Duarte complained. "We lost four pilots at A Bao A Qu. Four, out of 12. But one body modification and people focus on it instead."  
  
"Both of you, take your seats," Char said. "Kishiria's coming."  
  
One of Kishiria's personal guard stepped into the room. "Please rise in the presence of Her Majesty Queen Kishiria."  
  
They did, and Char gave the order to salute. Kishiria entered, mask raised, helmet on. Cima Garahau was at her side.  
  
"It's been eight months since our ignominious defeat at A Bao A Qu," Kishiria began. "Since then, we've been forced to retract what should be our rightful borders to the limits of the colonies remaining to us. That is now going to change. Solomon was the first of our sentry bases to fall to the Federation, and now we are going to take it back. We call the plan to do this 'Operation Maitres Chez Nous'. Masters of our Own House. General Garahau will explain."  
  
The newly promoted Garahau went to the projector. She called up a map of Solomon, A Bao A Qu, and Side 3. "Here's Solomon today. It's functioning much the same way as it when we held it. The Federation moved in and pretty much left everything as it was. They didn't do any renovations, probably for lack of funds, and quite frankly, haven't been using the base up to its full potential. This is a fortunate thing for us, because if they had, they easily could have launched an attack directly on Side 3 by now. Our goal is that they never have that chance.  
  
"With the help of an inside operative, we can soften up Solomon for an attack. The plan is this. A small strike force will move on the base. By that I mean three MS teams and the Princess Kishiria marines. We have to keep the size of the initial force small so that they can effectively sneak up on Solomon. What's going to make it possible for them to seize it are our operatives inside, who an hour before will have uploaded a script to seal up every computer-operated door on the base. It'll be necessary to blow the hangar doors open as a result, whereupon the marines will secure the area, allowing for our real fleet to appear. There shouldn't be much of a fight left. One of the reasons we've chosen to attack sooner rather than later is because our friends in the Federation have been stockpiling nerve gas. Isn't that nice? So we're going to turn it on them instead. With the doors locked and the base population unable to move freely towards their normal suits, a couple of canisters of that released into the air should quiet them down quickly. There will be survivors of course, but it's going to be much easier to subdue them and take the station."  
  
Kishiria spoke up next. "This is why we've re-shuffled some of the teams, putting the three best pilots together into one, followed by the others. We want a strike led by men who we know can take down whole Federation battleships, and we want them to be there on Solomon first for when and if the counterattack happens. Personally, I fully expect one, but we could be surprised. From the information culled by Intelligence, it appears the Federation is in considerably worse financial shape than we are, so if we take Solomon it's possible they may just decide to let us have it. If so, wonderful. We could potentially just move from there to A Bao A Qu again, by force or possibly even diplomacy depending how bad things are on Earth." A lower officer began handing out binders containing the fine details of the plan. As he received his, Char looked up at Kishiria and sent the message, {Your Majesty? May I speak to you in private for a moment about this?}  
  
Kishiria's eyes met his and she left the room, trailed a moment later by Char. Alone in the hallway, Char said, "I don't think we should use the poison gas, even if it is their own."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because we want to keep the moral high ground. We lost it completely last year. We went from being revolutionaries who wanted their own country and nothing else to genocidal monsters. I think in the long run it's best to have a harder fight now and less moral repercussions later when we want people to trade with us and immigrate here."  
  
Good job, Char, he thought to himself. That sounded plausible. Let's see if she bites.  
  
"Who's to say we let out the gas? Accidents happen. Perhaps their upper officers decided to kill themselves and all their troops rather than face defeat at our hands again."  
  
"Feddies don't think like that."  
  
Kishiria always managed to look far more annoyed with her mask on than without. "While I can see your point, I don't know yet if it is worth a harder fight in the tight confines of a space station." She reached down for her cell phone and tapped in the number to page Cima. The new head of intelligence soon joined them.  
  
"General Garahau, General Aznable suggests that perhaps you have your operatives not use the poison gas after all."  
  
Garahau wasn't a New Type, but her thoughts hit Char like a freight train. A jumble of images, including running over to Char and kissing him, entered his mind. Also a fragment of nightmare about dying civilians. Finally, a less clear image of a Jion bloodbath inside Solomon. Nonetheless, her expression remained impassive.  
  
"Personally, I'd rather we didn't. However, my...personal preferences aren't at issue here. If we don't kill the staff from inside, we face the possibility of having to take the battle corridor by corridor, room by room. That idea is much more fearsome to me than having more of a weight on my conscience than I already do."  
  
So you do have a soul in there, Char thought to himself. He decided he'd keep that secret, for now.  
  
"Could we come up with a compromise plan?" Char asked. "These operatives of yours. How did they get in? How well do they know the base computer systems? How can we use them best?"  
  
Cima considered. "They're not actually mine, they were Giren's. That in itself is a concern, but from what I understand of these particular spies, I don't think it needs to top our list. He called them the Rockfish, because they just lie on the floor looking like part of the landscape until they bite. When Solomon was taken, they didn't have to return there because they never left. They melded into the Federation forces and stayed put. Sociopaths, each and every one, but ready to launch any number of hacker attacks at a moment's notice. Hence, the denial-of-service attack on the doors."  
  
"But you think they're effective enough that they could lock in most of the Feddies, allowing for an easier invasion?"  
  
"I believe so. Giren didn't hire idiots, just sociopaths. But again, it's going to make the invasion much, much bloodier. Do you want that on your head?"  
  
Char raised his chin slightly. "I'll go in first. I'm sure Gato will agree without thinking about it. Duarte's more thoughtful, but his style of warfare is oriented more towards taking prisoners than killing the enemy anyway. I think he'll agree. Kishiria?"  
  
Kishiria lowered her head, concealing her expression behind her mask and the visor of her helmet. When she looked up again, she said, "Very well. I'm not as sure about it as you two are, but I'll admit that footage on the news of unopened cans of Federation-owned nerve gas will be damning to our enemies. Perhaps there will be revolts on Earth. That'd be something."  
  
Cima nodded. "Thank you, Kishiria."  
  
The three re-entered the room. "There's been a change of plans."  
  
#####  
  
For the next week, Char, Gato, and Duarte trained together 12 hours a day, every day. Char came home exhausted each night to Kishiria, who wasn't doing much better. If she was in their rooms at all, she'd be surrounded by her entourage, occupied with work of her own with Ti-Cas in a cradle beside her.  
  
The evening before Operation Maitres Chez Nous arrived. Duarte left with the Royal Cuauhtemocs, for their "usual ceremonies" he said. Char stayed around the mecha longer, as did Gato and Estenbach. When Char felt he'd reached the point of diminishing returns, he floated over to Gato's Zaku and said, "I'm going home. I suggest you two do the same. I want my wingman and his mechanic to be fresh in the morning."  
  
"I don't need much sleep," Gato said.  
  
"Tomorrow we leave for battle. Surely you'd like to spend a few hours doing something other than hanging around a Zaku."  
  
"I know I'd like to," Iserina told him. "I'm not facing tomorrow without eating chocolate tonight."  
  
"Well, if you want company..."  
  
Char smiled. "You kids have fun. Be here at 0500 tomorrow. Me, I have a wife and baby to visit."  
  
Some hours later, Char was tucked in bed, holding Kishiria in his arms. "As soon as you leave for Solomon, I'll be watching from the war room," Kishiria said, "I'll--"  
  
Char pressed his fingertips against her lips. "No shop talk now."  
  
Kishiria nodded. She cuddled against her husband for a moment, then said, "I want to try something."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"We're both New Types. I've heard about these New Type gestalts, where their minds meet. I want to try."  
  
Char felt his heart freeze in his chest. "You want to be like Lalla Sun."  
  
"What?"  
  
Char realized that Kishiria had no idea what he was talking about. She had been asking in the most general way, completely unaware of the telepathic union that had formed between himself, Amuro Rey, and Lalla just before she had died. The memory was the most painful one in his life and he didn't want to go near it.  
  
"Never mind. It's not something I want to do."  
  
"Char, everything depends on this attack on Solomon. You could be killed. We could lose. If that happens, I'm sure to be executed by the Federation. Hamaan has orders to take Ti-Cas to Axis where he'll be safe, at least. I don't want to face that kind of tragedy without experiencing that kind of intimacy with you."  
  
"In other words, you don't want to die a New Type virgin."  
  
"You're my husband, Char. As far as I'm concerned, we've got a license to do this."  
  
Perhaps this would overwhelm the tragic memory. "All right then. We don't need to be touching, but since we already are...."  
  
Char gazed into the grey of Kishiria's eyes; she focused on the blue of his. It was hard for him to bring down the emotional barriers he'd so carefully structured during his life, but after a moment he could feel Kishiria struggling to do the same thing. They were getting somewhere.  
  
Then they were standing in the open field in which Char had met his father. Char looked down at Kishiria and was startled by what he saw. The warrior queen of Jion was a fairy-tale princess in her own mind, dressed in a pink (PINK!) satin dress with a crown atop her loose-flowing red hair. At her hip, though, was a wicked-looking sword with a sweat-stained grip, encased in a well-oiled sheath. He could see black laced boots peeking from beneath the hem of her gown.  
  
Through Kishiria's point of view, Char saw that he was in his red and black uniform as always, with slightly longer hair and a more youthful appearance.  
  
"You are CUTE," Kishiria said to him. "Is this it?"  
  
"This is it."  
  
"I was expecting something more exotic."  
  
"Well your dead brothers might come skipping from behind that hill."  
  
"That'd be exotic," Kishiria agreed. "Disturbing, maybe. Although I'd certainly like to see Garma again."  
  
"Kishiria." Char took her hands in his own. "You didn't do this just to have a look around, did you?"  
  
"No. I knew that here, I wouldn't have to physically say the things I want to tell you before this battle. There are some things I just don't want to trust to my tongue, because I might say them wrongly."  
  
Char nodded, urging her to continue.  
  
Unable to squirm away from her thoughts or lie about them here, Kishiria began, "Thank you for being my husband. Thank you for giving me the child I've wanted since I was a teenager. Thank you for being the fellow soldier at my back during the day and the lover in my arms at night. I know you led my brother Garma into a confrontation with White Base, but I believe you when you say his death was his own choice. Impossible as it sounds, you've made it up to me. I'm sure I'd still be queen without you, but it'd be an emptier and colder reign. I love you, Char Aznable."  
  
Char smiled widely. "I can't begin to tell you how happy I am that I didn't kill you. You've given me the home and family I didn't know I wanted. You're frustrating, fascinating, terrifying me one minute and cuddling up to me the next. If Solomon doesn't fall to us, I want you to go with Ti-Cas to Axis. The Federation must not have you." He squeezed her hands tightly. "Promise me that, Kishiria."  
  
"I am a pragmatist," Kishiria said. "If we cannot take Solomon, I'm sure Side 3 will revert to being the Republic of Munzo. I will go to Axis with our son, Char. There might as well be a place for free Jions somewhere."  
  
Char frowned. "Why am I suddenly so hungry?"  
  
"That's not you. That's Ti-Cas. You're feeling his hunger through me. I'd better go feed him."  
  
She concentrated on waking up, but Char said, "Wait. I'm not letting you leave without saying that I love you, too."  
  
"I know." Kishiria smiled, and the next moment, they were sitting in their bed. Kishiria rose and walked naked down the hall to the nursery, then returned carrying the baby. She got back under the covers and Char had her lean back against him.  
  
Six hours until he had to leave for Solomon. Char held his family in his arms and silently vowed that for their sake, he would not fail.  
  
#####  
  
Iserina and Gato sat in his one-bedroom apartment, finishing up a fast food dinner. "Good lord, you can put away a lot of food, woman," he commented to her.  
  
Iserina, who had eaten dessert as her first course, finished off her double cheeseburger and continued to work on her shake. "If I'm going to die, I'm doing it with a stomach full of yummy food that's bad for me. It's not like I eat this kind of thing every day."  
  
Gato was watching her intently. "So tell me. What are you fighting for?"  
  
Iserina looked up. "Does it matter, as long as we're on the same side?"  
  
"It does to me."  
  
Iserina dabbed french fries in ketchup. "At first, I joined the Jion side to avenge Garma's death. Not against anyone concrete mind you. I just wanted to take my pain and my anger and throw them at the world in general."  
  
"That makes for a lousy soldier."  
  
"Maybe, but it didn't last long, you see. I fell in love again."  
  
"Who was this second fellow?"  
  
"Wasn't a fellow. I fell in love with mobile suits, although I've flown Garma's old Dopp and loved that too. That's why I took over Garma's Zaku. They needed a pilot for it, and I was happy to oblige. I think that Zaku saved my sanity. Thing is, I also came to really like the people I was fighting with, and they became my motivation. Frankly, I am pretty apolitical. I always have been, or I never would have been able to fall in love with Garma."  
  
"So you feel nothing for the cause of Jion independence?"  
  
"Oh, I do! Living under a monster father as I did, who wouldn't let me do so much as cut my hair," Iserina fluffed her short locks, "I identified with the cause very strongly. It lost a lot of my respect with Operation British, but then I met Garma, who had his own philosophies about Earth and the colonies living in a mutually advantageous situation."  
  
"What a very strange man he must have been."  
  
"He was weird, but I loved him and just about everyone else who met him did too. So what about you, Anavel?" One of Iserina's hands was slipping behind Gato's head.  
  
Gato jumped slightly. No one ever called him by his first name.  
  
"I believe in the cause of Jion independence. I was until recently under the sway of a man who believed that to achieve independence we had to follow Prince Giren. I decided that putting the political philosophies of a dead man ahead of the needs of our people was twisted. When I was invited back here, I accepted."  
  
"Good call. It's always better to serve the living than the dead."  
  
"What are you doing back there?"  
  
"Untying the ribbon that's holding your ponytail. I want to see what you look like with your hair down." Iserina pulled her hand back, drawing the red ribbon along with it. Gato's hair parted naturally in the middle and fell down around his face. Iserina reached out to arrange it slightly.  
  
"Just a second." Gato got up and walked down the hall. He came back carrying a hairbrush and wordlessly handed it to her. He sat on the floor in front of Iserina and she began brushing his mid-back-length mane. He'd washed his hair early the day before, she estimated, inhaling the scent of him as she drew the brush through the strands over his right ear. She moved above it, pulling the brush down again, apologizing when he grunted because the brush caught in a snarl. Iserina sank her fingers into the silky mass, holding his hair back as she brushed to the end. She stopped to massage Gato's scalp a little before starting on the hair over his left ear. Pulling the brush back turned his head towards her.  
  
"Did you really ask me here to ask about my politics?" Iserina asked.  
  
"Did you come over to talk about them?"  
  
"No." Iserina drew the brush through Gato's hair one more time. Gato reached up to stroke her cheek, then kiss her. She felt afraid at first, but it passed in a second or two. When they broke apart, Iserina gazed into those cool hazel eyes and knew that if this man survived Solomon, it was time to start over.  
  
The next morning, Iserina awakened to the smell of coffee and the sensation of its heat in her nose. She opened her eyes to find a cup being waved gently under her nostrils. Anavel was smiling down at her, his hair loose, clad in a bathrobe.  
  
"Good morning, sleepyhead." He placed the cup on the nightstand.  
  
"Morning." Iserina sat up, wearing a flannel shirt he'd loaned her. "We have to be on post in an hour."  
  
"I know, and I made us some breakfast." He exited the bedroom and returned with some toasted bagels. He sat on the bed with her and they ate silently, aware of the passage of time. Afterwards, they took turns in the shower and dressed. Iserina watched as Gato brushed his hair back severely and tied it in his usual tail.  
  
"How do you feel?" Iserina asked.  
  
"Excited. I'm going back to Solomon and this time, I'm finishing the job." He grinned over his shoulder at her. "We're going to win, Iserina. Aznable's a good man and a great commander. The Feddies haven't got a chance."  
  
Iserina didn't feel nearly as sure, but she decided not to mention it. Her expression must have given her away though, because Gato took her face in his hands and said, "I know Garma went into battle and never returned. I will. Don't worry."  
  
"It's not only that. We were the last ground troops in the United States. It was hard and depressing and I guess it left me a little pessimistic."  
  
"This is going to be different. You'll see." He took her hand. "We'd better go."  
  
At the palace, Kishiria was wrapped in her dressing gown, watching Char dress. A knock came on the door, and Kishiria let Sayla in. She was in the turtleneck and slacks which had become her standard outfit. Char came over to give her a kiss on the cheek.  
  
"I wanted to see you off," Sayla told him. "Kai and I will be watching the news. Is anyone using the captured Gundam?"  
  
"No, it's being studied. I'll be the one in the red Gelgoog."  
  
She nodded, her expression almost as worried as Kishiria's. Char went over to Ti-Cas's crib and picked him up. Kishiria and Sayla could "hear" him saying something telepathically to him, but it was for Ti-Cas's "ears" only. He put the baby back, then hugged Sayla warmly.  
  
"Look after Kishiria for me, okay?"  
  
"Okay." Sayla released him and Char went over to Kishiria for a longer embrace and passionate kiss. Something had changed their relationship, Sayla observed. There was certainly no ambiguity in their feelings for each other now. That made her glad, and she prayed desperately that her brother would not have finally built himself a home only to have his life snuffed out right after.  
  
The first nine mobile suits were already loaded onto the two Zanzibar-class ships headed for Solomon. The personnel joined them and they moved out.  
  
Many hours later, with Solomon becoming visible through a sea of war debris, Iserina hunkered down over the diagnostic computer for the Zaku. She realized she was as concerned for its well-being as its pilot's. She supervised closely as its weapons and ammo were loaded, finding security in her control over the procedure.  
  
Iserina looked down as the pilots came streaming out from their briefing. General Aznable led the pack and she watched as he launched himself into his Gelgoog. Gato landed behind her.  
  
"Everything all right?"  
  
"This mobile suit could not be in better condition, Commander."  
  
"I'll try to bring it back in the same shape as I'm finding it."  
  
Gato was beaming happily as he fastened his helmet, He started to step into the cockpit, then turned towards her.  
  
"Iserina, do you have a picture of Prince Garma with you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"May I bring it with me?"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because this is his mobile suit, and he should be flying it to victory. I would like the honour of helping him do it."  
  
Iserina took out her wallet and removed a photo. Gato smiled when he saw that it showed her along with Garma. "Better still," he commented, and slid the picture into a secure corner of his console.  
  
He took his seat and Iserina used fussing with his seatbelts as an excuse to get close enough to Gato to kiss him one last time. "Good luck, Anavel."  
  
"Garma and I fight for your honour, milady."  
  
She withdrew and he closed the cockpit. She slapped the door twice and backed her tech's platform away.  
  
The mechanics and technicians stepped back so that the hangar doors could be opened to space. Char Aznable's suit led the way, followed by the other eight machines. They all watched in silence until the doors closed again behind the last mobile suit.  
  
"Briefing in five, room three, for instructions on backup," said the Chief.  
  
Iserina was the last straggler, gazing out towards space. "Take care of him, Garma", she pleaded to her lost love, and went to join the others. 


	17. Chapter 17

Nine Jion mobile suits glided silently towards Solomon, cloaked largely in the debris of the previous year's battle. In his Zaku, Anavel Gato sat back in his pilot's seat, reminiscing. He'd contributed heavily to the wreckage surrounding them. Three Federation warships destroyed by his own actions. On the other hand, not all of this twisted scrap was Feddie. Too much of it was the sad remains of proud Jion warships and brave soldiers. He felt a wrench of what he knew was survivor's guilt. Intellectually, he knew he'd lived and they'd died largely because dammit, he was good at what he did. Still, in his gut, he held a conviction that this was a battlefield he never should have left.  
  
Gato squirmed a little in his seat. Iserina was right; it was too small. She'd fit into it, after all, which made him reflect on how undergrown its first occupant must have been. Just a child, really. Sad. So many of the casualties of this war had been like that. Well, he had the chance now to right that, to help put an end once and for all to this conflict and win freedom for his country at long last. Gato gazed down at the photo on his console. I won't leave you a two-time widow, Iserina, he promised.  
  
The goal of the mission came into view. Gato came out of his reverie.  
  
"Solomon, I'm here to rescue you," he said, grinning.  
  
In his own cockpit, Char was trying to stay distracted. He hadn't been in real combat for eight months and he felt rusty. A year ago, he would have been giddy with excitement right now, but instead he found himself afraid, something that never used to happen. He'd never felt the full weight of a nation on his shoulders before, always thinking of himself as a free agent, a law of his own operating within the confines of the Jion military. The Peoples' Republic of Char Aznable, Char Aznable Owner and Operator. Not anymore. He didn't have a picture of Kishiria or Ti-Cas with him; he'd deliberately chosen to go without, not wanting to think about them.  
  
Finally, the tension got to be too much. He picked up a CD he'd borrowed from Kishiria and put it into the sound system. It was a random selection of pieces she liked, and her tastes were eclectic. Much of it was swing or 1950s jazz. Some Motown; "Respect" by Aretha Franklin was on there twice. Then there was a mood shift in the music, and Char heard the opening chords of a melancholy guitar solo. It sounded like one of Garma's demos, recorded when he was in the middle of a black depression:  
  
The darkness when it's ten feet overhead, Grab the reef underneath my bed. Ain't got no quarrels with Jah, Ain't got no time to grow old Lord knows I'm weak, Won't somebody get me off of this reef?*  
  
Char slapped the "eject" button as fast as he could. Ye gods, could he have had a worse omen for this mission? He put the CD away and looked up to see Solomon right ahead of him.  
  
"Sir, there's something wrong," Octavio Duarte said through the radio.  
  
Char called the mobile suit company to a halt. He studied the asteroid ahead. The doors were half-open and light was glowing within.  
  
"Looks like they were caught by surprise," Char said. "That's what was supposed to happen." He didn't sound confident, even to himself.  
  
"I agree with Octavio," said Gato. "Something stinks here. I don't know what."  
  
Char rolled his camera over to look at Duarte's green, red, and white Dom. "Can you tell me what makes you say that? I believe you, but I'm trying to decide on what to do."  
  
Duarte was silent. "Those doors should be open or closed. Not halfway."  
  
Char opened up a channel to Kosell on the Lili Marlene. "We're feeling wrong about this. You're the seat-of-the-pants fighter. What would Cima do here?"  
  
Kosell's voice answered, "She'd do it. She's crazy."  
  
Char agreed. "All right. Let's go in."  
  
They sailed towards the rectangle of light. As they did so, a GM squeezed out through the opening like a hornet from its nest. It was followed by another, and another.  
  
"Here it comes!" Char shouted, and he hit the accelerator. The approaching GM fired off a shot, which Char's Gelgoog dodged. He brought his rifle about and opened fire, straight into the GM's cockpit. Beside and behind him, the other pilots burst into action. Char decided on what he was going to do next. There were still Federation mobile suits coming out of Solomon. If he could catch one halfway out, he could block those doors, stall the rest. The Lili Marlene and its comrade the Musai Vera Lynn were out of hiding, providing cover fire.  
  
"Gato! Octavio! Cover me, I'm going to jam those doors!"  
  
Char's focus narrowed to just that one thing. Would they know he was there waiting? He left himself open as he watched for ten, twenty, thirty seconds...was that all?  
  
No. The head and shoulders of one more suit started to emerge. Char relaxed, let his New Type abilities come to the fore, aimed, and fired at the head. It exploded into a lightshow of electric sparks and the one protruding arm started to wave spasmodically. The pilot would still be alive, and the Feddies now had a choice; open the doors and pull it back in so they could launch the rest of the suits, or leave the GM there, and hole up for a siege.  
  
Then it happened.  
  
They had a third choice, after all. The doors slid open, they left the suit there, and launched twelve more over its broken body.  
  
"They're still in control in there!" Gato shouted.  
  
"Not for long," Char said. "Let's go IN, teams one and two! Three and four, stay with the Marine ships, take care of these sons of bitches!"  
  
"General Aznable! We're launching marines now!"  
  
"Affirmative." Char flew into the open bay over the mangled GM, which Duarte further mutilated with precise fire to the arms before yanking it out of the way The bay was now empty of all but a few Federation personnel who were firing up at the Jion suits with sidearms. Char heard Duarte laughing as they were joined by Gato. Outside, he could see four shuttles coming from the Lili Marlene and Vera Lynn into the open hangar. Federal ground troops started to make their appearance as the first of the marines jumped out onto the deck.  
  
Char had said he would lead this, and he fully intended to keep his word. He unstrapped himself and unloaded the assault rifle he'd brought in the cockpit. Gato's and Duarte's suits were motionless, unable to do anything in close quarters like this. Char opened his hatch and launched himself downward to the deck.  
  
"What the--?" Gato popped his cockpit open and went down to the floor as well. All he had was his usual sidearm, not much good in a melee like this, but better than nothing. He could see the battle continuing outside, with the other warships coming in to engage Federation ships that had emerged from another dock. Not a good sign at all, he reflected. This would not be the cakewalk originally envisioned. He grabbed a rifle from a fallen marine and ran after his general.  
  
"Octavio!" Char shouted. "As soon as the last marines are in, shut those doors!"  
  
"Roger!"  
  
Char tore down a pressurized hallway, followed by a dozen marines with Gato at their heels. Six Federation soldiers appeared and returned fire. Not good, still not as serious as it could be, Char knew. The locked-door attack must have worked to some extent. He and the marines drilled through the six and they kept running, the goal being the command centre. They received little opposition, just a few clusters of soldiers here and there--  
  
Something flew at Char. At first he thought it was a baseball and he thought, are things that bad for the Feddies?  
  
Then the baseball exploded.  
  
Char stood dumbfounded, completely unaware of the sounds and activity around him. He couldn't help but watch as the tears down the right side of his normal suit filled with blood. It didn't hurt, not any more than having been punched in the thigh, rib cage, and belly. He coughed and his mouth filled with blood.  
  
Kishiria, I'm sorry, he thought, and collapsed.  
  
As soon as Char was hit by shrapnel, Anavel Gato rushed to his side, oblivious to the danger to himself. He fell to his knees, knowing better than to move his fallen commander. "MEDIC!" he howled into his microphone. "Oh god, oh god...Char!" He lifted Char's head onto his lap, saw blood bubbling from his mouth. "Don't do this. Don't die on us. We're almost there." He grabbed the patching material from the pocket of his normal suit and began sticking it over the holes in Char's.  
  
Two white normal suits appeared with a pressurized stretcher tube. Gato stood back to let them load Char into it and watched as they carried him away. He turned, full of rage. The Feddies may just have brought down the greatest Jion hero ever, but he was going to make them pay.  
  
"Command centre!" he ordered. Things had to be going better back outside, he realized as more Jion troops joined them. Twenty minutes of sporadic fighting later, they blasted open the doors at Solomon's heart.  
  
The base commander, his grey Federation tunic amply decorated with ribbons, stood to face the armed Jions.  
  
"We surrender," he told them, and sat down again.  
  
#####  
  
Char found himself sitting at an airport bar. The bartender was setting a gin and tonic on the counter in front of him. The muted TV on the wall was showing Jion troops occupying Solomon.  
  
Where was he? How had he gotten here?  
  
"Did I order this?"  
  
The bartender shook his head. "Compliments of the gentleman at the table back there."  
  
Char looked where the bartender's thumb was pointing. Garma cheerfully lifted a glass of beer to him. Char knocked back the gin and tonic.  
  
Garma came over and settled onto the stool next to his. "Hello, Char."  
  
"Hello, Garma. Er. How have you been?"  
  
"Me? Dead."  
  
"Yes. I'm sorry." Char gestured for another drink. "So, am I dead too? That shrapnel looked like it was doing a lot of damage."  
  
Garma took the remote from the bar and changed the channel. The screen showed a team of surgeons working on Char's open chest. "Not yet. You're close though. This airport around you is the symbol I chose to use to represent Death's Door. You're on my turf, now."  
  
Char sipped his drink, feeling completely detached from the sight of his own internal organs. "So what are you planning to do to me?"  
  
Garma's dark eyes fixed on him. "Letting you know that I forgive you."  
  
Char sighed. "I don't deserve that."  
  
"Maybe not, but that isn't what forgiveness is all about. I needed to tell you that in order to fully be at peace. Now I am." Garma looked up at the sceen. "Things don't look too good in that operating room."  
  
Char looked up as well. "That heart monitor just went flatline!"  
  
"Yeah. We better move fast." He placed a hand on Char's shoulder and steered him to a departure lounge. They went to the gate and Garma said to the flight attendant, "I'd like to postpone his departure."  
  
The flight attendant looked up at Garma. "Are you intervening for him?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
The flight attendant typed something into a computer. "Intervention accepted. He gets more time." She glared at Char. "Don't screw it up."  
  
Garma led Char down the concourse. "It means a lot to me to have done that. Not just for myself, but for Kish, and Casval Garma. They need you. By the way, you and Kish make a terrific couple. I'm happy for you."  
  
"Thanks. You watch us?"  
  
"Don't worry, not all the time. Here. This will take you back into your body. I'll warn you, it's not going to be pretty. That grenade messed you up pretty bad."  
  
They were standing in front of the cherrywood door to a first-class lounge. "Do I want to go back to my body?" Char asked.  
  
Garma's expression was grim. "Don't count on taking up sports anytime soon."  
  
"I see. Well. As long as I can serve Her Majesty, I suppose that's all that matters."  
  
"Her Majesty just wants a live husband. Speaking of which, I know about Anavel Gato and Iserina. Tell her it's okay." Garma's voice caught a little and moisture welled up in his eyes. "Tell her I want her to be happy, and that she and Anavel have my blessing."  
  
"I'll let her know."  
  
They embraced and Char stepped through the door. The next thing he was aware of was dizziness, the taste of blood, and the smell of the anesthetic. Then nothingness again.  
  
Back on Side 3, Kishiria watched the battle from a throne at the back of the war room. Hamaan and Cima stood on either side of her. She watched as Char's Gelgoog disabled the GM and was the first to invade. She watched her fleet engage the weakened enemy. All was going well, until a wave of terror flooded over her and she emitted a little cry.  
  
"Your Majesty?" Cima asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.  
  
"Something's happened to Char," Kishiria told her.  
  
"Hope for the best. We'll know soon enough."  
  
The word soon came back from Duarte. Solomon was liberated. The Rockfish in charge of overriding the doors had been captured before the entire program had been loaded, causing some difficulties. Casualties were reasonable and the lists of dead and wounded being compiled. "But ma'am," he said over the video link from the command centre, "I regret to inform you that the Prince Consort is gravely wounded. He is being operated upon even as we speak. It was a grenade, ma'am. He took it for all of us."  
  
Kishiria nodded, then rose from her throne and left the war room. She held herself together until she found a conference room where she collapsed into a padded chair and spent the next half hour sobbing on Hamaan's shoulder.  
  
*"Badfish" by Bradley Nowell and Sublime 


	18. Chapter 18

Kai and Sayla were keeping close to their television. The last hours had been grueling, even though they were in the safety and comfort of their living room in the palace, not participating in the battle themselves. When the announcement was aired that Solomon had been re-taken by Jion, they sat quietly, not knowing what to feel. Less than a year ago, they had been the ones winning the asteroid for the Federation, and now the tables had turned again, as had their allegiances.  
  
"You know the General Revil must be on its way," Kai said.  
  
"We might be being bugged," Sayla warned.  
  
"Of course. I figure that isn't anything Thelma and Louise don't already know." "Thelma and Louise" were Kai's nicknames for Cima and Kishiria.  
  
Their doorbell rang and Sayla went to answer it. To her surprise, it was Kishiria, trailed by Hamaan who was carrying the queen's helmet. Kishiria strode in nervously, then stood twisting her wedding band as she spoke.  
  
"I thought you should hear this from me, and I need to take a break anyway...Char was wounded in that battle, very badly. I don't know the extent of his injuries. The worst are in his right lung and kidney. He came through surgery, but Captain Duarte says it was a near thing, that they even lost him once." Kishiria rocked on her heels a little. "I'm going to see to Ti-Cas now; Maria says he's been crying nonstop since his father was hurt. I...just thought you should know." She turned around and walked back out.  
  
Sayla collapsed down onto the couch and Kai put an arm around her. "I just want this to be over," Sayla whispered, "but I know it isn't."  
  
Kai held her close and said nothing.  
  
#####  
  
Gato was napping in the pilot seat of his Zaku when Iserina joined him. He opened his eyes when she gasped out his name.  
  
It took a moment for him to realize what had upset her so. He looked down at the blood on his normal suit and said, "Don't worry. None of it's mine."  
  
"Oh. Good. Why don't you change into a new one, then?"  
  
Gato shook his head. "I'm going to wear it until this is all over, to remind me."  
  
"Jion drama queen," she said. Gato sniffed in indignation and she went on, "So is there anything I should know about before I start servicing this baby?"  
  
"The left arm took a direct hit just above the arm joint."  
  
"I saw that. The patch is already on."  
  
"Otherwise, I think we came through."  
  
"In that case, I'll get started. Here." Iserina handed him a plastic box. "Eat. I'll take care of the rest." She turned to the outside, then looked back in and said, "This is the first time I've seen the Royal Cuauhtemocs' mobile suits up close. Are they trying to be a carnival attraction or what?"  
  
Gato took out some raw vegetables and started to munch on them. "Don't let them hear you say that. The paint jobs all have some kind of sacred significance."  
  
"I know one is supposed to represent the quetzal bird, and another has all sorts of glyphs on it. But what about the suit with the Aztec warrior and the big-breasted woman?"  
  
"Oh. That guy was just being perverse. He says it gives him the advantage of surprise, though. I'm sure it works, too."  
  
"No kidding."  
  
"There's four ships inbound from the Federation," Gato said conversationally as he pulled out a sandwich and peeked at the inside.  
  
"I know, we've been briefed. Don't worry, I can work perfectly well under pressure." Iserina started running a diagnostic. She had been working five minutes when Octavio Duarte Gonzalez pulled himself up onto the platform. Iserina saluted, he returned it, and Duarte poked his head into the cockpit.  
  
"Gato? You going to take this suit out again?"  
  
"I was planning to. Why?"  
  
"Berrigan in 4th team needs a suit. His lost a leg and he doesn't think he can manage without it for balance. I was thinking, you should take General Char's Gelgoog. It used to be yours, you know it, and you're too good a pilot for this old pre-war thing anyway."  
  
Iserina's expression darkened, but she said nothing. Gato was silent in thought for a moment.  
  
"You know this is Garma Zabi's Zaku," he said to Duarte.  
  
Duarte nodded. "I had the privilege of fighting beside him, once, down in the Yucatan. He was our honourary commander in chief you know, like the queen is to the marines. I'll make sure Berrigan treats it with respect, cause if not," he grinned wolfishly, "I'll skin him and wear his hide like a cape."  
  
"You do that." Gato leaned down and removed the photo of Garma and Iserina from the console. He shot a cable over to the nearby Gelgoog and floated over. Iserina joined him a second later.  
  
"Anavel..."  
  
"Yes, I know this feels like adultery," he said. "I'm not sure against whom, but it does. It can't be helped. Duarte's perfectly right, this used to be mine and it is a superior machine. I'll be more comfortable and more efficient. Char won't be able to use it anytime soon, unfortunately."  
  
"I know you're right," Iserina said. She watched as he restored the photo to a comparable spot in the cockpit, then went back to service the Zaku.  
  
It was several more hours before the small Federation fleet appeared. On the General Revil, the crew was in normal suits and at battle stations. Amuro sat in the cockpit of the Columbia, fiddling with the computer. This time last year, he would have been fighting with Bright and noisily bemoaning the injustice of the world. Now he realized that things weren't right, and probably never would be, but at least he had his Gundam. If nothing else, he could take pleasure and pride in its improved magnetic coating which made flying it like riding within a graceful fish, its controls which reacted along with his New Type brainwaves though not completely run by them, and its lighter, more effective armour. He could honestly say that the Columbia felt like an extension of his own body, and he liked that.  
  
Strangely, that thought led to memories of Lalla. She'd fought in the Elmeth for love of Char, and Amuro suspected she wouldn't have approved of Amuro's enjoyment of the Columbia. Amuro felt his eyes tearing up. He knew that much of his absorption in the machinery was to keep from thinking of her, especially at night when he was always tempted to imagine what it would be like to have Lalla lying beside him.  
  
"Amuro, are you ready to make a sortie?" Frau asked from the bridge.  
  
"I just need a minute to close up the console."  
  
"You know Bright doesn't like you tinkering this close to battle."  
  
"Bright's not the techie. I am, and I know what I'm doing." Amuro finished the procedure. "There. I can run a diagnostic to make sure everything's functioning."  
  
"Fifteen minutes."  
  
"That's plenty."  
  
Solomon was one battle White Base had missed. Amuro felt as if they were returning for unfinished business. After this, perhaps it would finally be over.  
  
Two hours later, the small Federation fleet closed on Kyonpei Island. Their orders were to engage the Jion fleet with the objective of forcing them to surrender at a moment when their victory was far from decisive. Ships and mecha met each other again in space.  
  
When Amuro launched, he only had eyes for one enemy. As ships fired at one another and he engaged one Jion mecha after another, he was constantly searching for his nemesis, his dark twin. Char Aznable.  
  
Amuro closed his eyes and searched for him. He was there, Amuro could sense it. Something was wrong, though. His presence was feeble, wavering. Amuro opened his eyes again as a Dom flew at him, beam rifle flashing. Amuro nimbly launched the Gundam out of its way, allowing the Dom to hurtle below him. Amuro bounced off a piece of debris at a Zanzibar, using one of his sabers to take out two of the main guns.  
  
That's when his attention was seized by a patch of red growing larger in his camera's sights. His heart leapt as he recognized it as a scarlet Gelgoog. Amuro sheathed the saber and reached for his rifle...  
  
Char wasn't in it. It was as if the Gelgoog's cockpit was empty. Amuro shook his head. The enemy pilot was head-blind. Rage filled him as he realized Char had sent out a decoy. Amuro finished the grab for his rifle. Sorry, Mr. Decoy, you shouldn't have let Char use you like this, he thought. Time to die for your stupidity.  
  
He fired and the Gelgoog deflected the beam with deft shield work. Amuro was startled. Maybe the pilot wasn't a New Type, but he or she still flew like one.  
  
Inside the Gelgoog, Anavel Gato grinned. The Gundam! Providence had given him a chance to fight the newest Gundam. Now he could avenge Char Aznable's fall in battle as well as do something the Red Comet had never succeeded in doing.  
  
Gato fired his own beam rifle. He scored what would have been devastating hits on the arm and chest, but there was some kind of protective coating on the Gundam. This was not going to be easy, and perhaps only a close-in, direct blow would do. Gato holstered the rifle, drew a beam sword, and charged.  
  
Amuro decided he'd stand and fight, knowing that a GM would be no match for this pilot. It was his responsibility to take him out. As soon as the Gelgoog was close enough, beam sabre in hand, Amuro let loose with the Gundam hammer, taking the pilot by surprise. The ball-and-chain weapon whipped around the Gelgoog's wrist and Amuro drew it in, vulcan cannons firing.  
  
"Dammit!" Gato knew he'd stepped into that one. He pulled his second sword and cut the chain, hitting his thrusters in reverse as he did so. He was lucky; none of the vulcan's shots had done more than take out one of his auxiliary cameras, but it had taught him a lesson all right. He dodged behind a piece of debris, fired his rifle once over it, considering his next move.  
  
Amuro continued after him. The other guy was probably kicking himself, he figured. This was just going to have to be a classic mano-a-mano. He aimed his beam rifle at the debris behind which the Gelgoog had hidden and fired. The chunk of ship's hull exploded, but the Gelgoog was no longer there. It appeared at Amuro's side, grabbing his right arm, punching at the Gundam's head with its shield. Amuro found himself being shaken around like a loose nut inside a nutshell, and his cannons weren't having any effect against the shield. Wishing he could knee the Gelgoog in the groin like a human opponent, he resorted to grabbing his own beam sabre and swiping at it instead. The sabre tore a strip off the side of the Gelgoog, not deep enough to be debilitating, but enough to shake off the pilot again.  
  
The Gelgoog only pulled back a short distance this time and fired its rifle squarely at the Gundam. Amuro watched as most of the Gundam's left arm, including the shield, came off and went flying away behind him. There was no time to retreat though; he'd just have to keep fighting while presenting a narrow side profile to the other pilot.  
  
Gato fired his rifle twice more, only scoring glancing blows. The Gundam came at him with sabre in hand, so Gato responded with a sword. It was more equitable this way, he thought, dueling like medieval swordmen as the battle raged on around them. This pilot was preternaturally swift, and he wondered if this was one of those New Types.  
  
The Gundam's sword entered the field of vision no longer covered by the camera Gato had lost. Next thing he knew, the Gelgoog had also lost an arm. Gato took advantage of a pause in the Gundam's motion to retreat a short way again.  
  
At this rate, the two mecha would slowly carve each other to bits, with it being anyone's guess who'd reach a cockpit first. No matter who won, they'd have done it at the cost of machine and weapons. He was going to have to be creative rather than merely aggressive.  
  
Gato got an idea. He opened a channel to one of the Royal Cuauhtemocs.  
  
"Magadan! I need you! Come up on the Gundam's port side!"  
  
Amuro sheathed his sword and reached for his beam rifle. The Gelgoog was starting an approach again, a rifle in its one remaining hand. It was coming head-on, giving a wide target. Amuro aimed....  
  
And he jumped as a weird-looking Zaku hove into view on his injured port side. It was painted matte-white, its head like a skull. Its body was mottled with black polka-dots Amuro had to tear his eyes away from this nightmare image, but he did so just as a flash of white light from the oncoming Gelgoog filled his viewscreens.  
  
Amuro stayed in the light, but soon realized he wasn't alone there.  
  
Lalla?  
  
She stood before Amuro, eyes shining joyfully, her yellow dress flowing in the wind. She extended her hands to him.  
  
Finally, we can be together in peace, she said to Amuro  
  
Will New Types always have to die to be free of war? he asked.  
  
Not if we can help it, Lalla answered. I'm so glad you've returned to me. The others will listen to us when we speak in their dreams.  
  
I love you, Lalla, Amuro said, and they flew off together, free at last.  
  
#####  
  
On Side 3, Kai fell off the couch onto his knees. Sayla let out a muffled cry into her hands. She closed her eyes and began sobbing. Neither she nor Kai were paying attention when the Federation gave the order to retreat, having decided the attempt to take back the asteroid was too expensive. The General Revil retreated along with the two ships remaining.  
  
In the war room, Kishiria was nursing her son under a blanket when she received the request for a cease fire. Her Majesty graciously accepted and requested a peace accord. Her head had begun to ache, and her baby was fussy. Cima and Hamaan were hugging each other and jumping up and down, but Kishiria just wanted a cup of herb tea and some rest.  
  
On Solomon, Gato and Magadan exited their suits to loud applause. Gato smiled widely at the Neo-Aztlan pilot.  
  
"I will NEVER laugh at your paint jobs again!"  
  
"My Zaku represents 'cocolitzli'. Plague. I spread death through the Federation like a disease!" the tall, mustached pilot exclaimed. Gato grabbed him around the neck and hugged him.  
  
As soon as his boots touched the floor, Iserina Estenbach came racing over to Gato, throwing herself in his arms. "You did it!" she shrieked, making him wince a little. "You killed the pilot who helped kill Garma! Oh Anavel, thank you!"  
  
"Maybe you can move on, now," Gato suggested, hugging her back. She nodded against his shoulder.  
  
"¡Víva la pesadilla de Solomon!" Duarte yelled, pouncing on Gato as well. "What you do now?"  
  
"Now? I'm going--" Gato paused dramatically, "--to take a shower. I've been in this normal suit for days." He smiled at Iserina. "I'm in no condition to have dinner with a lady."  
  
She beamed at him and squeezed him around the rib cage again.  
  
#####  
  
Kishiria Zabi appeared on Solomon three days later to greet her triumphant soldiers and oversee the handover of Federation troops to their own side. She strode down a red carpet in an undamaged docking bay, flanked by her loyal troops on either side. Chin up, mask raised, black cloak flowing behind her, she felt like a conqueror as she made her grand entrance. At the end of the carpet was a podium where Kishiria faced her troops, lowered her mask, and smiled a very real smile of happiness as she gazed at them.  
  
"Loyal soldiers," she began, "today is one which shall live forever in our history. On August 15, 0069, my father Degin first declared that we were the Kingdom of Jion. Today, we finalize his dream and that of Jion Deykun. Not only have we declared our independence from the Federation, and our distinct society away from the people of Earth, we have clearly demonstrated our superior power over them by re-taking what was rightfully ours.  
  
"Nonetheless, today is also a day of sorrow as we commemorate our dead and pray for our wounded. As I watched this battle, I was greatly moved by the courage and intelligence with which you all fought. If any proof of our superiority was ever needed, you have provided it most brilliantly. For this, I thank you.  
  
"Now the peace process begins. This is the stage in which I will be most involved as I go to Luna to negotiate recognition and trade with the Federation. If history grants me any stature for this, it is only because I have been lifted up by your efforts. A monarch cannot legitimately rule above and apart from the citizenry, and I would never want to. You have given me, and the people you swore to protect, the freedom to soar upon the wings of eagles.  
  
"Sieg Jion!"  
  
Kishiria's white-gloved fist shot into the air. Beside her, Captain Duarte seconded the gesture and the cry echoed from hundreds of throats, filling the high-ceilinged cavern of a room.  
  
"Sieg Jion! Sieg Jion! Sieg Jion!"  
  
Kishiria stepped down from the podium and was escorted to a small car. From there, she was taken to the hospital to greet the wounded and distribute Jion Cross decorations. For this, her helmet and gloves came off and the mask went down. She went from bed to bed, followed by Hamaan, squeezing hands in her own and handing out the medals. Cameras flashed around her, preserving her for posterity as a regal yet maternal figure, the mother of her country.  
  
The mother was also a concerned wife, though, who finally had the chance to speak to Char's doctor. "We gave the Prince Consort a room to himself," the surgeon said. "We thought you'd want some privacy. I won't lie to you, ma'am, he's a badly injured man. We had to take shrapnel out of his upper abdomen and chest. It missed his heart and bowels, but he's lost his right kidney and lung. His right leg was also took a multiple fracture and he's in a cast."  
  
"What are his chances?" Kishiria asked softly.  
  
"He's in critical but stable condition at least. He's young and strong and his lady wife is here. He was calling out for you earlier."  
  
Kishiria swallowed deeply and entered the hospital room. Char was on an oxygen mask. Both his arms had IV hookups, one for blood and another for various clear liquids. The blankets were to his waist and above them he was bandaged to his armpits.  
  
She pulled a chair up to the bed. His hand was cold, his skin so pale it was almost green. He smelled of antiseptic and dried blood. Kishiria reached out to touch his mind and felt the bliss of morphine blocking out the awful pain in his torso and leg.  
  
Char's blue eyes opened and focused groggily on her. "Kish..."  
  
"Ssh. Don't try to talk. Save your strength." Kishiria's throat tightened and her eyes filled with tears.  
  
"You're here. We won?"  
  
"Yes, sweetheart. We won. We couldn't have done it without you."  
  
"Why cry?"  
  
Kishiria sniffled. "Because you're hurt." She stroked his hair, which was sticky with sweat. "Because I love you, Char. Don't die on me."  
  
"I won't," he promised weakly and drifted off into sleep. Kishiria kissed Char's forehead and took her leave.  
  
#####  
  
"What happens now?" Kai asked. He and Sayla were sitting in one of the enclosed gardens of the palace, a bottle of wine between them. They had been drinking to Amuro's memory, wishing this moment of grief could have been shared by more than just the two of them.  
  
"We've sealed our fates," Sayla said. "We stay here. We finish university finally. We find jobs, settle down, and hope that we won't be outsiders."  
  
"I think we're doomed to that," Kai said. "You seem to keep forgetting, Sayla, your brother's Prince Consort. Your sister in law is the Queen. You're a princess. We're not going to have a normal life ever, no matter how hard we try."  
  
She sighed. "I'm sorry, Kai."  
  
He shook his head. "I made my bed, I'm going to lie in it. It'll be tolerable, as long as I'm lying in it with you."  
  
Sayla took his hand and pressed it to her cheek. 


	19. Chapter 19

Kishiria Zabi returned to Jion with Char as soon as the wounded Prince Consort was strong enough to travel. He was installed at one of the military hospitals in Zum City.  
  
"My instinct is to be here by his side," Kishiria confessed to Sayla as they sat by his hospital bed, "but I'm off to Von Braun for peace negotiations."  
  
"I'll take care of him," Sayla promised. "If I can finally manage one semester without being interrupted by war, I'll be graduating from the University of Side 3 in December. So I'm almost a doctor. You can trust me with him."  
  
"The doctors have told me he won't walk again unassisted," Kishiria said.  
  
"They're wrong," Char sighed from the bed. His eyes were still clouded with painkillers, but his mind was all there. "Sayla? Amuro..."  
  
Sayla took his hand. "Amuro's dead, Char." As ever, whenever she mentioned it, she became teary.  
  
"No...he's with Lalla." Char's eyes closed. "He's happy." He looked at her again. "Who killed him?"  
  
"Commander Gato."  
  
"Losing to him...no disgrace," Char said. "Good pilot."  
  
"Maybe not, but I don't think I'm inclined to forgive him any time soon."  
  
"Char, I have to leave," Kishiria said, standing up. "I need to get ready to go to the moon. I'll kiss Ti-Cas for you."  
  
Char nodded. Kishiria kissed his forehead gently and Char responded with a weak little grope. She smiled at his mischief, kissed him again on the lips, and departed.  
  
Meanwhile, in another part of town, Iserina Estenbach was watching Anavel Gato make dinner. She rested her elbows on the kitchen table and sighed.  
  
"Something wrong?" he asked.  
  
"No. Just appreciating how nice you look in jeans is all."  
  
He grinned at her from over his shoulder.  
  
"AND you can cook. I didn't expect that."  
  
Gato scraped a chopped onion into a saucepan. "I like food. However, I also like having control over it and tailoring it for myself. So I learned to cook. I actually took classes." He added some other ingredients and looked around himself. "Besides, you've got a well-designed kitchen here. It'd be a shame to not use it."  
  
"At least I don't have to worry about you serving me any tofu-and-hijiki casseroles or the like."  
  
"Only if you're bad." He pulled a face. "Only if I'm bad, for that matter. I like meat."  
  
Iserina nodded. "The only thing I ask you not to serve me is venison."  
  
He poured a glass of wine for her. "Why's that?"  
  
"When I was on Earth, during the last months of the war my mobile suit company were hiding out in the Canadian Rockies. We couldn't move because we needed to sneak under tree cover and they were bare. So we camped out in the most godawful place we could think of. After a while food became scarce, so we had to go after rabbits and deer. I became quite the hunter. I'll never forget the first time I had to butcher a whole deer." Iserina shuddered. "Venison and snow. Two things I hope to never see again."  
  
"You don't have to worry about it living here." Gato's eyes roved over the roomy flat. "How can you afford a place like this on a warrant officer's salary, if you don't mind me asking?"  
  
"This flat is part of my royal widow's pension."  
  
"But you and Garma weren't married."  
  
"Kishiria felt I should have it, on compassionate grounds. I lose the pension if I do get married, though."  
  
Gato sipped at his own glass. "If this is a rental, as opposed to something owned by the Crown...two incomes would likely cover it."  
  
Iserina smiled. "All we have to do to keep the place is live together."  
  
Gato shook his head. "I don't do that."  
  
Iserina sat up, playful demeanor gone. "Aren't we discussing this a little prematurely?"  
  
"Why?" Gato checked his watch, returned to the pot, threw some more things in.  
  
"My fiance hasn't even been dead a year."  
  
He sat down again. "I didn't mean we should go to the courthouse today. I was putting it out as a suggestion. You're everything I've ever wanted in a woman, Iserina. You're courageous, you're not only a soldier, you're a veteran, you appreciate mobile suits as much if not more than I do, and you've certainly shown that you care about me. I don't want to treat you cheaply."  
  
"You don't. Just give me until after October 5 before asking again."  
  
"I'll give you as long as you need." Gato kissed her hand and went back to the stove.  
  
#####  
  
Kishiria and her entourage took up residence at the Jion embassy in Von Braun. The new peacetime flag of the kingdom, showing the distinctive Jion symbol in white against a dark-blue background, hung proudly over the entrance.  
  
"Is that a hot tub?" Cima exclaimed in glee, stepping from the guest suite into the courtyard garden. Kishiria followed her out among the grass and small trees and pulled her in by the collar.  
  
"Yes it is, and you're not going into it until we've worked out this treaty." She and Cima walked into the suite's dining room, where Margaret was supervising the setup of office equipment. "The cabinet and I worked out our own demands, so our next step is an attractive presentation."  
  
"The first draft is right here, ma'am." Margaret put copies in front of Kishiria and Cima.  
  
"Excellent. Let's get started."  
  
#####  
  
"Our demands are simple: an immediate ending of hostilities, a recognition of our independence and that all colonial ties to Earth are now severed, and a free access to all Federation markets." Kishiria sat in an armchair at the end of the conference table. Federation President David Rossetti sat at the other. There had originally been a minor fuss from the Federation officers about which end of the table to take. Kishiria's side had mutely given up the seats Rossetti's team coveted, the unspoken message being that they were here to deal, not be petty about non-essentials.  
  
Rossetti and his entourage shifted in their chairs. "We've considered your offer, Queen Kishiria, and there are some shortcomings in your offer. Very simply, it is our opinion that it's one-sided. Is there anything in it for the Earth Federation? Side 3 succeeded in retaking Solomon, but is that enough to mandate a peace treaty which offers us nothing in return?"  
  
Kishiria nodded. "We are prepared to hear your needs."  
  
"We want 20 billion Federation credits for reconstruction on Earth and in the Sides remaining to it."  
  
Kishiria drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair. "All right. If Jion has open access to all Federation markets, we will certainly be able to do that with a payment plan."  
  
"You do realize that a complete lifting of the embargo on Jion fuel is not part of the treaty as we envision it."  
  
Kishiria leaned forward. "Let Us see if We understand you correctly. You want 20 billion from us, while denying us the means by which to raise them?"  
  
"It hardly makes sense for the Federation to simply recycle our own money."  
  
"This is insanity. We don't have 20 billion. If you lift the embargo on Side 3, we will be able to trade our fuel with the other Sides, invest the money, and pay you for damages. We also have other resources for sale which have been embargoed by all but Side 6 and the neutral colonies, such as silk, electronics, and of course industries stemming from the mobile suit and armour projects."  
  
"It would damage the economy of Earth."  
  
"Ah. Once again, it comes down to the needs of the Earth elite and not those of the colonies. How very typical." She stood and the rest of her entourage stood with her. The Jions marched out together with no further comments.  
  
"What do we do now?" asked Cima.  
  
"We wait. They need money, they'll call us back to the negotiating table."  
  
Kishiria was soon proved right. An envoy was sent from Rossetti to the Jion embassy and they reconvened in the morning.  
  
"It's the opinion of the Federation that the embargo should be lifted," said Rossetti.  
  
"Thank you," Kishiria responded graciously.  
  
"We still insist on the 20 billion."  
  
"It is Our considered opinion that paying for the non-military aspects of the reconstruction of Earth will stand as a sign of Our generosity to the people of Earth. As long as we have the means to raise that, we will pay it. Now that we have agreed on a lifting of the embargo, let's continue with our demand for a formal recognition of independence..."  
  
#####  
  
Gato entered the Royal Family's living room, feeling an odd sense of cognitive dissonance. On one hand, he was a privileged visitor to the Zabi's inner sanctum. On the other, it looked like any other living room, with good-quality but very ordinary furniture and a large-screen TV. Char Aznable was in an electric wheelchair in front of the television, dressed in civilian clothes, his injured leg on the footrest. One leg of his pants had been cut off to accommodate his hips-to-toes cast. He turned his head as Gato came in.  
  
"Gato. I'm glad you could come over; I'm going stir crazy in here."  
  
Gato sat down on the couch beside the recliner. "How are you, sir?"  
  
"Bored. Missing Kishiria."  
  
"Are you still in pain?"  
  
"Yes. The worst thing is being helpless though. I can't lift anything over three kilograms until my chest heals, which means playing with Ti-Cas is difficult at best. Plus I have to use this thing to get around because I can't use crutches." He pointed to the wheelchair. "But if I keep talking like this, you're going to have to serve me some cheese with my whine." He looked over at Gato. "You play chess?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Great. I've been dying for a game."  
  
A few minutes later they were sitting at the chessboard. "You look like something's on your mind," Char said to him as he considered his next move.  
  
Gato moved a rook, ruining Char's plan. "Slight woman trouble. Nothing to worry about."  
  
"Well, you've come to the right place. What's Iserina doing to make your life a living hell?"  
  
"Putting me in competition with a dead man."  
  
"Ah. You can't measure up to Saint Garma." Char nodded. "I thought that might be a problem when I fixed you two up."  
  
"SIR!"  
  
Char shrugged. "I wanted that Gelgoog. You ended up with both it and the girl at the end. I'd say you came out the winner."  
  
Gato glowered. "Unfair. Well played, but unfair. No, we're enjoying each others' company, but when I think we're starting to get close, Garma's ghost suddenly seems to appear between us. I'd like to tell Iserina that if I wanted to share my bed with a dead man I'd become a necrophile, but somehow I don't think she'd see the humour in it."  
  
"Probably not. I only saw them together once, and the chemistry between them was intense, to say the least. He died for her, you know."  
  
"I didn't know."  
  
"I told him not to let his feelings for a woman cloud his tactical judgement. He didn't listen. End of story."  
  
"I see." Gato looked blank. "I think I'd better tell her it's over, then. It's unfortunate; I thought she might be the one."  
  
Char picked up the phone. "She is. I'm calling her over here."  
  
"Sir, that's entirely unnecessary."  
  
"It is indeed necessary. I'd rather not explain. Hello, Warrant Officer Estenbach? This is General Aznable. Listen, I need to discuss something Gelgoog-related here with you. Let me tell you which palace entrance to use."  
  
After he hung up, Gato said, "Something Gelgoog-related?"  
  
"That was the first thing I could think of. Excuse me for a moment." Char rolled his wheelchair out of the room. A few minutes later he returned with something in his hand. "Here. I was going to give this to Kishiria when she came back to congratulate her on her diplomatic victory, but I'll get her something else."  
  
"Sir..."  
  
"Now are you going to move that bishop or not?"  
  
Iserina appeared in uniform and was taken aback by the civilian clothes facing her. "Gato, I need to speak to the Warrant Officer alone, please," Char said. Gato bowed slightly and left the room.  
  
"This has nothing to do with the Gelgoog, does it?" Iserina asked.  
  
"Sort of. I need to talk about its pilot, not the machine itself." When the door had clicked shut, Char said, "Iserina, when I was on the operating table, I had this strange experience. I found myself in an airport..."  
  
Twenty minutes of flipping the pages of one of Giren Zabi's doctoral dissertations later, Gato was called back into the room. Iserina had been crying. Char was holding her hand.  
  
"Commander Gato, I think there's a question you've been wanting to ask this young lady?"  
  
Gato froze. Char mentally urged him on, knowing that as a non-New Type Gato wouldn't hear him, but hoping that he'd pick up on Char's support on a primitive level. The crossroads of life were always more terrifying than any number of enemy mobile suits.  
  
Gato met the challenge. He went down on one knee and took his sweetheart's hand.  
  
"Iserina, I love you. Please do me the great honour of marrying me."  
  
Iserina blinked those huge green eyes of hers once or twice, then nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck. Char found himself getting teary as they held each other for a few moments, then kissed. Gato opened the box and did his best to slide the star sapphire ring onto her finger. It had been designed for Kishiria's very thin hands, though, and was too small.  
  
"Sorry. I got this ring in a hurry," Gato explained.  
  
"It's all right," she said, sniffling a little. "I don't know what ring size you take either, although I think I'm about to find out!"  
  
Char produced a bottle of wine that Gato opened. Char toasted their happiness and they drank, with the Prince Consort reflecting that he wanted his wife back. Immediately.  
  
#####  
  
With the peace treaty signed and the obligatory state dinner eaten, Kishiria finally told Cima that yes, she could get in the hot tub. The late hours found the queen and her head of intelligence naked and soaking away stress, sipping at glasses of sangria.  
  
"Well, that's a satisfying conclusion," Kishiria said with a grunt of contentment.  
  
"Very. It's been a long and costly journey though. I hope it's over."  
  
"Worried about Delaz?"  
  
"Somewhat. He's going to get angry out there, you know, if he isn't already. We'd better deal with him and quickly or we'll have an insurrection on our hands."  
  
Kishiria nodded. "I've been thinking about that, actually. I'll cross that bridge when we get home, of course. I'll probably give him a desk job with a promotion, lots of goodies, and no power."  
  
"He'll hate that."  
  
"Oh, I know, but you know what they say: keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Speaking of which, here." Kishiria reached over to her bathrobe's pocket and pulled out a keyring. She handed it to Cima.  
  
"What's this?"  
  
Kishiria smiled. "For service above and beyond the call of duty in the War of Independence. The keys to your four-bedroom home in the capitol. It's in Republic Park."  
  
"Kishiria! That's one swanky neighbourhood."  
  
"I know, and you and that six-foot wooden sculpture that's your second in command are no doubt going to drive the property values way, way down."  
  
"I can't help it if I don't consider a party a success unless the police show up." Cima smiled down at the keys in her hand, then glided across the tub to Kishiria, wrapped her arms around the other woman, and kissed her deeply. "Thank you, my lady. Finally, I can go home."  
  
"That was the idea. You deserve a small amount of peace." Kishiria rubbed her nose against Cima's and Cima settled in beside her friend, her head on Kishiria's shoulder.  
  
"I think we'll have it now. I wonder how long before it becomes boring."  
  
"Boring? I don't think so," said Kishiria. "I have a country to run, a baby to raise, and a husband to make miserable."  
  
"Ah, don't give me that. You adore Char."  
  
"Yes. Yes, I do," Kishiria confessed.  
  
Two days later, Kishiria was sitting on their bed with Char. "You look so much better than when I saw you last," she told him.  
  
"A month of separation makes a difference. Another couple of weeks and maybe I'll be able to pick up Ti-Cas and use crutches."  
  
"You were hurt pretty badly. How do the scars look?"  
  
Char unbuttoned his shirt and exposed his chest. Dark red lines crossed back and forth across his torso. "There'll be more on my leg, as well."  
  
Kishiria nodded. "Well, they make you look...oh, I won't lie, Char. They're ugly, but it doesn't matter to me anymore. In January of '79 I would have been upset because I was after you for your looks. Now I'm just glad you're alive. You're beautiful, no matter what."  
  
He sighed. "You don't know how glad I am to hear you say that. I've been afraid that you wouldn't be attracted to me anymore."  
  
"Not a chance of that. Not after all we've been through. Besides, you said I was beautiful when I was skinny with a face like a hawk."  
  
"I meant it."  
  
"So do I." Kishiria put her arms around him carefully. They hugged gently until Kishiria broke away unexpectedly.  
  
"What's wrong?" Char asked.  
  
Kishiria was unzipping her tunic. "The all-night bar is open, and Ti-Cas is calling the waitress," she said with a smile, and went to get their son. 


	20. Epilogue

On the independent Side Six colony called Libot, Dr.Sayla Mass was gazing at herself in a mirror. Her green, black, and gold officer's tunic bore officer's tabs and the gold caduceus pin of the Medical Corps. She wasn't on duty though, as evidenced by her jeans and sneakers. Kai Shiden walked into the room.  
  
"Trying that thing on again?"  
  
Sayla undid her belt and unzipped the tunic. She hung it up neatly and put on a civilian shirt. "I'm a lieutenant in the Jion armed forces. I'm still trying to absorb it."  
  
"Are you going to tell the others?"  
  
"No. I've thought about it, but I think I'm just going to say I'm assigned to a military hospital and leave it at that. Not all doctors at First Veterans are military themselves."  
  
"Tell the truth, that the military doctors, specifically the ones who took care of your brother, are the best you've ever seen and you wanted to work directly with them."  
  
"I'd rather avoid that for now. Bright, Mirai, and the others aren't going to be easy to face just with us having deserted on them."  
  
Kai crossed his arms defensively. "Look, we've got a damn good excuse, Sayla. You got arrested after a year of solid heroism and I was supposed to just smile nice and serve the guys who did it. I'm not sorry, and if I lose friends over that, I'll deal. You should too."  
  
Sayla walked up to Kai and put her arms around him. They hugged for a moment before Kai said, "C'mon, we can't put this off any more."  
  
"I never dreamed I'd be afraid to face my friends," Sayla confessed as they left their hotel room.  
  
The White Base crew, including the three children and Wolf the dog, had assembled in a wooded park. Conversation came to a halt as Kai and Sayla arrived.  
  
"Hi," she said, nervously.  
  
Bright stood with his hand on Mirai's shoulder. Hayato paused over the barbecue. Even the children were still.  
  
Finally, Sayla said, "We're sorry. We did what we felt we had to do. That decision has put us in exile, and we miss you all."  
  
Frau came over to them. "You know Amuro's dead, right?"  
  
"We were watching it on tv when it happened," Kai said. "Neither of us was involved. Except for when we fled Side 7, we never took up arms against the Earth Federation."  
  
"That was a pilot named Anavel Gato," Sayla continued. "We suggested this weekend to meet with all of you because he's getting married on Side 3 today and we didn't want to be around."  
  
The atmosphere relaxed a little. Frau came over and gave them cautious hugs.  
  
Mirai joined them. "So how are you lovebirds? Sayla, congratulations on finally getting your M.D. Is Kai freeloading off you?"  
  
"I'll have you know that I've pulled in a sizable advance on a book about the One Year War," he told her, accepting a beer from Katsu. "While she's off at the hospital saving lives and getting all the glory, I'm at home slaving away over a hot keyboard so that the truth will be known." He took a swallow of beer. "I imagine the Jion and Federation editions will be different, so I'll make sure you all get contraband copies."  
  
At first, Sayla was afraid he might just have stuck his foot in it, but there was a little bit of laughter. Sayla looked down at Mirai. "So what's happening here? What are you, about seven months along?"  
  
Mirai smiled and put her hands on her belly. "Six and a half. It's a boy; we're going to name him Hathaway."  
  
Bright came over to hug Sayla and shake hands with Kai. "So what's this I hear about you and Mirai being parents?" Kai asked. "Every guy I know wanted to do nothing but sleep after the war, and here you are, running out for pickles and ice cream at 2 a.m."  
  
"We decided we didn't want to wait any longer. Life is too uncertain. So Kai, are you planning on making Sayla an honest woman?"  
  
"Ask her. She's the one bringing home the doctor's salary, let her buy me a ring."  
  
Sayla wrapped an arm around Kai's waist. "We're pretty happy just the way we are. Besides, this way if I get tired of him, all I have to do is kick him to the curb. It keeps him in line."  
  
The laughter became less nervous, the smiles more genuine. Hayato put the burgers on the grill and Kai played with the children. Sayla listened attentively to Mirai's list of symptoms. Being an expectant father had melted away much of Bright's reserve; he couldn't keep his hands off his wife. Frau watched them all pensively, thinking about their lost friends. Still, with a second generation of their community--their family--on the way, it was easier to look to the future, even though the memories would be forever treasured.  
  
#####  
  
Kishiria sat in a side pew of the church, aware of the congregation's eyes on her. She ignored them, hoping only that her presence wouldn't steal attention away from the stars of this production. Kishiria felt stare- worthy, though. Being ruler was a heck of a lot easier than being a wartime general in terms of hours and stress. She was getting enough sleep, eating right and exercising every day to the point that Kai Shiden had a hard time peeling his eyes off her when he and Sayla visited. Today, Kishiria was dressed in a slim-line lavender suit, the skirt cut well above the knee, one of the diamond tiaras she always wore on formal occasions tucked neatly into her long red tresses.  
  
In front of the altar, Anavel Gato looked utterly terrified, as did most men in the minutes before their wedding. Even so, it was no secret that he and Iserina (who couldn't wait to shed the last name "Estenbach") were mad about each other. Love gave them a distinct advantage over Kishiria and Char at the beginning of their marriage. Nonetheless, it seemed to have worked out all right. Almost two years after their bare-bones wedding, the Deykun-Zabis were quite comfortable being Jion's most recognizable family. Ti-Cas was a year old and already a media hound.  
  
Char had transferred Gato to the teaching staff at the Academy. Iserina continued to work, although when her enlistment ran out she intended to enroll at the Academy as a cadet. As long as she didn't take any courses from Gato, Char didn't think it would be a problem.  
  
The minister appeared, the wedding march started and Kishiria saw Gato gulp visibly. Escape while you can, doll, she thought to herself jokingly. Not that she really wanted him to run away. Life had too few happy endings as it was. Besides, he calmed right down as he saw Iserina coming down the aisle, her white dress and flowers contrasting against the crimson of Char's uniform. They'd had to rehearse quite hard for her to adjust her walk to his limping step. It paid off, and Kishiria amused herself slightly by imagining her as the girl-child she hoped to have eventually.  
  
Char kissed Iserina on the cheek and passed her to Gato, who looked stunned. Char joined Kishiria at the side of the church, taking her hand in his own.  
  
"Someday our own daughter," Char whispered to her, echoing her own thought. Kishiria nodded and smiled.  
  
Char watched the wedding without paying much attention. His mind was elsewhere. I know you're at peace, Garma, he thought to himself. I've made sure your beloved is in the arms of a good man who'll take excellent care of her. Rest easier, my friend.  
  
Kishiria found her mind wandering to the night before, when she'd visited Cima at her new house. The place still looked plain, since Cima was still in the process of choosing paint and wallpaper and having a marvelous time. They'd knocked back white wine and giggled like schoolgirls while Kosell hid from them in the basement, playing with power tools. Kishiria wasn't sure if she'd be attending the Garahau-Kosell nuptials anytime soon, but she fully counted on them sharing an address for many years.  
  
Iserina and Anavel said vows and exchanged rings. He turned her veil back and kissed her when indicated. Kishiria took her hand from Char's sleeve and applauded.  
  
The champagne chilling in the newlyweds' boudoir and the rose petals in their bed were paid for from Char's pocket. The reception was a gift from the Royal Family to Commander and Mrs.Gato, and was expensive and restrained. Despite the ample amounts of liquor served, the omnipresence of officers' uniforms served as a constant reminder to behave. Not that it was a mood-killer, quite the reverse. The combination of repression, booze, and dancing made for an atmosphere of "just wait till I get YOU home" which, if any New Type bothered to trace it, originated with the bride and groom.  
  
Hours later, the Queen and Prince Consort stumbled tipsily into their own room, laughing. Kishiria pulled the crown from her head and put it in its velvet-lined box, leaving her hair touseled. She kicked off her shoes and left them on the floor. She felt happy and fuzzy from good wine and emotion. Watching a girl from Earth and a boy from the Sides get married was a very nice way to spend a post-war afternoon.  
  
"I didn't know a New Type could get high off other peoples' joy," she said.  
  
Char turned on the sound system to a jazz station and sat down to pull off his boots.  
  
"They're a good couple," Kishiria went on. "I liked seeing them get married. The best of the kingdom, marching together into the future."  
  
"You talk too much," Char complained, smiling. He rose from his chair and disappeared into his dressing room, emerging again with their own ice bucket and chilled champagne. He popped the cork and poured two glasses.  
  
"I know we didn't have much of a wedding of our own," he said, "and you weren't drinking then anyway because you were pregnant. So I now confess, I only bought Anavel and Iserina the second best bottle of bubbly in the store." He handed a champagne flute to Kishiria. They clinked their glasses together. "To Her Majesty and His Highness."  
  
"To Kish and Char," she corrected.  
  
As they drained their glasses, a smoky, saxophone-heavy piece came through the speakers. They set down the glasses and Char took his wife in his arms. Kishiria rested her head on her husband's shoulder, and they began to dance.  
  
-FIN- 


End file.
